Broken
by xLevitate
Summary: Part 2 of "Shattered" series ; As Jane deals with the events after Ra's attack on Gotham, she takes the initiative to watch over Rebecca. As the two girls form a bond, Jane sinks back slowly into mob life without the protection of the police. Her relationship with Bruce undergoes strains and her dark past comes to life, uncovering a lot about her that she doesn't want exposed.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: "Broken" is the second installment of the "Shattered" series. Please read "Shattered" before reading this to gain background on the characters. This sequel will not be extremely long, merely character development and a set-up for "Cracked", the third installment in the series involving the beloved Bruce Wayne and Jane. **

**This story is rated M for: strong sexual content, explicit language, controversial themes, violence, some gore, dark themes, and light hints of torture. You have been warned. Please do not continue further if you cannot handle any of the things listed above. Please, leave the flames for the Private Messaging. :D  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Gotham, Batman, Bruce (I WISH!), or anything of the Nolanverse. I do, however, own Jane, Rebecca, and most of this plotline structure.  
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**Update schedule: Every other day, unless otherwise noted. I WILL BE sticking to it this time. Maybe... Depends... Unlike "Shattered", this has not yet been completed, but I am a good chunk ahead so you shan't be too worried.  
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**Now that all that is out of the way, I'm guessing you want me to shut up?  
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Jane was thinking about how awful hospital television channel choices were when her phone buzzed in her pocket. Jolted out of the trance she was in as the soap opera played on the television; she reached into her pocket and pulled out her tiny cell phone. A quick name check revealed it was Bruce's actual, _real_ cell phone number – not the one he had given her for when they had worked together a while back. A smile on her face appeared before she could stop it. She was pathetically happy to see his name on her phone and more than eager to hear his voice, she flipped the rather antique flip phone open and held it to her ear. "Hello?" She chirped before mentally slapping herself. Gods, she was such a fucking little girl. Getting this hyped up on a conversation that had not even started yet was probably not healthy. So teen movie.

"Hello Jane," Bruce replied. His voice was smooth, almost brooding in tone as if he were a billionaire who moonlighted as a vigilante. Oh wait, he was. Damn she needed to get a better sense of humor. "Where are you?"

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the sudden protective shift of his tone, she looked back at the television screen. A young woman was crying over the dead body of her lover and Jane was struck with the thought about how that could have been her. Bruce – or even she – could be dead at the moment, leaving the other alone in Gotham. Not that they had an unstable relationship - in all but name and sexual acts-, both were teetering around each other after the events that took place almost three months ago. They were like a fucking married couple or some shit. Little had happened after the little episode that happened with the last kiss just before they had about to have sex. Jane had received flashbacks of her rape with Crane, and she stopped Bruce from going further. Crane had seemed to all but destroy that sexual drive within her - not that there was much to begin with, and Bruce, ever the gentleman, seemed to treat her as if she were a porcelain doll since then. At times she caught that glance of lust in his eyes, and more than a few times the two had been caught up in a heated moment that had bordered upon escalation before he cut it off abruptly much to her disappointment and dissatisfaction.

She guessed she should have been glad to have a man in her life that was willing to wait until she got over what happened. After being brutally raped, Jane shouldn't want Bruce in that fashion. What surprised her was that she did. She wanted Bruce to sweep her off her feet and lay her down in the bed, ravish her body until they were both satisfied, but she knew he wouldn't. Bruce was much to patient, much to kind to do something like that. As she said, she should be grateful, but she wasn't. His treatment drove her to the point of insanity. She was not something that needed to be bubble wrapped and kept from the world. Jane was a big girl, dammit; she could fucking take care of herself.

"I'm at the hospital waiting to see Rebecca," she replied, looking away from the tearful vision on the screen. It really was a miracle that she and Bruce managed to both survive that night. Jane had satiated her hero complex, and in turn had a friend of hers, Eric, killed. She had also faced against Crane, her tormenter, and nearly killed him. Jane had managed to reign in her blood thirst that night even though she wanted to enact the sweet revenge for not only herself, but for every one that he had victimized. Including Rebecca. She had left Crane on the rooftop and he had yet to be seen or heard from. Jane assumed he had left town, but she wasn't worried about it. She had faced him and came out on top, which was all that mattered to her. Of course, she hadn't gotten away without a few battle scars of her own.

Her shoulder had all but completely healed since that night. Jane had worn bandages and gauze for about two weeks afterwards then shucked them off, preferring to not coddle herself. She had worn them for far too long and besides, her shoulder itched underneath the tight winding of the wraps. Now all that was left was an angry pinkish scar which she had become rather fond of. Jane loved scars. They told the story of a survivor, someone who had healed from something. To her, it was a reminder of all that had happened, and an exclamation that she could survive whatever came at her, no matter what. She had risen from the broken figure she had become after Crane's brutalization of her, and had conquered him. No one would ever touch her like he had again. That was a promise.

"Is your shoulder okay? I still think you have checked it out. There is no telling what kind of bacteria was on that knife he used." Bruce sighed on the other end of the phone. Did he not understand that all of his worrying was completely and utterly infuriating?

"Bruce, it's been like, three months. I think I'm fine." She huffed and settled into a different position on the plastic, uncomfortable hospital waiting room seat. How long had she been here? Why did hospitals seem to want to force visitors to wait for fucking forever when they came in? It wasn't like she was being admitted into the hospital herself. She just wanted to see someone. Fuck she hated to wait. Running her fingers through her hair, she sighed loudly, switching the phone to the opposite ear to lay her head down comfortably in her palm resting on the arm of the chair. "Besides, I think the apocalypse would happen before they would get me out of the waiting room if I was actually visiting the hospital for health purposes."

Bruce chuckled. "I'm guessing you're at Gotham Central?"

"One point to the insanely rich man." Jane muttered and rubbed at her forehead. She felt a headache coming on. It was probably from worrying about what she was going to do once she actually got in the hospital room. What was she going to say? _Sorry that I made you subject to Crane's torture for about two weeks more than you should have done. I was too busy trying to save my own fucking pathetic skin. No hard feelings, right?_

Yeah. _That_ would go over well.

"What's wrong?" He asked, picking up on her mood shift. How had he come to know her so easily? It was like he was fucking there in the room with her instead of on the other side of Gotham.

"I'm just a little nervous about seeing her, you know? Like, what if she's extremely angry at me for leaving her down there? I want to help her the best way I can. I feel like I'm one of the few sane people left that know exactly what she went through. Crane seemed to have a fixation on her and there's no telling what he did to her down there." Jane had gone back through the basement after the police had combed through it. The place brought back unpleasant memories, not only of her experience but as well as the thought of Eric, but she knew she had to face it in order to fully recover. She went through all the rooms but had found no evidence of anyone else being down there.

Jane had also talked to Gordon about Rebecca's future after she completely healed. After a hot debate, he agreed that going back to Arkham would not be the best thing for her. Jane won, and it was decided that she would be let free. She wasn't going to let the young girl go back into the mental hospital again. She wasn't a danger to society or anything, and in fact, Rebecca had appeared to be stable up until Crane tested his drugs on her. The doctors said her mind would be a little shaky at first, which was why she was still in the hospital, but that she would be fine.

"You helped save her life. You got her out of there, and that's all that matters. She'll understand – you beat yourself up too much over things like this. Don't be so quick to blame yourself when you should be focusing on others' wrongdoings. Just try to relax, calm down, and _breathe_."

Fuck Bruce and his ability to get inside her head.

Jane took in a deep breath. Somehow he always knew what to say to get her into perspective. He had a knack for that sort of thing. While fucking annoying, she had to admit that it did help her immensely. Bruce had been a safety net of sorts, always there if she needed him, no matter when it was. Jane needed him, had come to depend on his kindness and his talent to always say the right things and give her one of those amazing fucking hugs of his whenever she was on the brink of losing control.

"Why do you have to be so damn smart, Bruce?" She asked, chuckling humorlessly. He really was too perfect in some ways. Jane heard her name called and she looked up to see a red-haired nurse waiting for her. Time to see Rebecca and face the music. "Looks like I can go see her now. I'll be back at the penthouse not too long from now. I don't know how much time they'll give me with her." She stood and pulled down the hem of her beige sweater. Normally she wouldn't wear something so feminine and fitting, but since she had moved in with Bruce, he seemed to always want to buy her things. Girly things like beige sweaters, designer jeans, and leather boots that cost more than a month's rent at her apartment.

"Let me know when you leave the hospital. Did you take a car up there or a taxi?"

She took in a deep, soothing breath. Cussing him out for being too damn fucking nosy and berating her with orders and questions wasn't the smartest thing to do. Jane flipped her hair over her shoulder and walked up to the nurse. The lady turned, going through a glass door and Jane followed, the phone still pressed to her ear. Bruce was sometimes too damn overprotective. Maybe it was just because she wasn't used to it. Falcone and Gordon had given her free reign over whatever she wanted to do and she never had to answer to anyone. It seemed that now Bruce wanted to know every little thing that she did when she did it.

"A taxi. Look, I have to go. I'll send you a text when I'm leaving though I don't see why you need to know." She snapped the phone closed and slid it back into her pocket. Her tone had been a little tense, tight with anger. She really shouldn't blame him – he was only looking out for her. Jane often managed to get herself into a bit of trouble. But _come on_. Jane had saved his life before – three times, actually - and she wasn't expecting a minute-by-minute update from him. Maybe this was what she got for still bumming off of him and not leaving his apartment yet.

Jane had wanted to move out and go back to her own place after she gained control of her shoulder back. The main reason why she had moved in with him in the first place was because her left arm was practically useless to her. There was also the whole _I'm going to watch over you to make sure you don't do anything stupid again _Bruce idea. When she had brought it up with Bruce he shrugged it off, saying that she shouldn't be so quick to leave. He was offering her a free place as a friend and that she wasn't a burden. Apparently, Alfred rather liked her company according to Bruce, though Jane rarely saw the kind old butler in the first place.

She didn't know for sure why Bruce was adamant to keep her there, but if she had to choose it was probably so he could keep a sharp eye on her. Not that he couldn't do that to her from her own apartment. He had done perfectly fine when she was working with Falcone. Bruce had a huge protective instinct that she discovered soon after she had settled into his inner city penthouse. And now that she lived under his roof – in a separate bedroom, of course – she was subject to that part of his persona. The fact that she had gone through a lot didn't help matters at all. Why couldn't he watch over Rachel or someone?

Rachel. Jane hadn't talked to the pretty District Attorney recently. Bruce seemed to not be so in love with her anymore, which delighted Jane more than it probably should have. Rachel didn't appear to have any feelings for him either. Jane knew that Bruce cared about her, but she had been unsure as to whether or not he still _loved _his childhood friend. He had been in love with her for years and even though Jane didn't have any experience in that part of life, she knew you couldn't just snap out of those feelings.

Jane reminded herself that when the three of them were last together that it had been _her _hand that he held. Not Rachel's.

It was pitiful. How much of a school girl she resembled when she acknowledged that one tiny thing with a smug sense of satisfaction like a high schooler with a serious crush. Jane shook her head at herself and almost collided with the nurse, not paying attention as to where they were going in the expansive hospital. Murmuring a quick apology, she took a step back.

"Miss Rebecca James is awake now though she is probably very tired. If she came into contact with you at the time of her predicament then there is a chance that she will not recognize you," the nurse said. "Try not to say anything that will anger her, but talking about what happened may help her recover faster. If she starts refusing to speak, though, don't push the topic further – you'll only set back her recovery."

Jane nodded in understanding. The nurse opened the door and Jane stepped inside, her heels clicking on the ugly tile floor. It wasn't a sound that she was familiar with, having become used to the thud of her boots but she ignored it as she moved inside the darkened room. Rebecca was lying on a hospital bed in the private hospital room. She was attached to a few machines at the head of the bed, her head turned away from the door to look out wall of windows beside her. They were opened, but it was rainy outside. Her view overlooked the parking lot and a spanse of super green grass, a small tree in the center of the courtyard. The weather gave the appearance of an even bleaker mood as well as the muted television hanging on the wall opposite Rebecca. As Jane stepped closer she saw it was the ridiculous soap opera she had watched in the waiting room.

The door closed behind her, leaving her and Rebecca alone in the room. "Rebecca?" Jane asked hesitantly, nervous again. Crossing her arms over her chest, she sank into a cushioned seat beside the bed. The young girl in the bed turned to face Jane, and she was struck again by how pretty and youthful she was. She looked much younger without the grime and exhausted look she had in the basement when Jane last saw her, but she recognized her easily. "Hi," she said, smiling weakly.

Rebecca's chocolate colored brown eyes squinted a little in confusion. She didn't say anything, only fueling the butterflies that were in Jane's stomach right now. "I remember you," Rebecca's eyes dawned in realization of who Jane was. "You were in the basement with me one time, weren't you?"

Jane nodded and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I was. You look…much better than you did." Fucking idiot. What kind of shitty thing to say. "I mean –"

Rebecca chuckled a little though her laugh lacked humor. "It's okay. I know what you mean." She smiled at Jane, "I certainly feel a lot better. I remember seeing you in the room and thinking that I had died. Against the light of the hallway you looked like an angel." Rebecca sighed and looked up at the ceiling with a small shake of her head. "What a stupid thing to think, right?"

"No. I remember when Batman saved me; I thought he was something…supernatural as well." Rebecca's head turned sharply back to Jane, eyes wide.

"Crane took you, too?"

Nodding, Jane replied, "yes, but I wasn't under the influence of his drugs the first time. He…violated me and was going to let the others when Batman came in and saved me. It's kind of a long story how _that _worked out." She didn't mention that Batman had only been there to save Rebecca, not her. That would probably make the girl hate her even more than she already did. "The second time, I was in Arkham to help protect a friend of mine. When Crane was about to hurt her, I pushed her into an elevator and was unable to get in. He gassed me, but didn't get a chance to hurt me. That was the day the cops got you out of there."

"Crane didn't let the others touch me," Rebecca closed her eyes as if she were falling asleep. Jane thought she was, and had been about to get up and leave when Rebecca started speaking again. "He threatened me. Said if I didn't behave that he would let them have me like the whore I was. But he never did. I never knew why."

While very unhappy that Rebecca had been raped by Crane, she felt a sense of relief when Rebecca said that he hadn't allowed the others to touch her. It didn't make a lot of sense to her though, but she was still glad. Why hadn't Crane passed her around? A sick idea, of course, but one that he obviously wasn't above enacting. Maybe he had only done that with Jane because intimacy was her greatest fear. That conclusion made sense and Jane was not expecting a much clearer one than that. The question burned in her mind but she knew she would never come to the right answer. There was no telling why Crane did what he did – no excuse or motivation besides a personal, insane sick mind that got off on that sort of thing. Trying to figure it out would be pointless and a waste of time and effort.

It could be that Crane didn't want to share Rebecca with the others because of her beauty. Even sallow, pale on the hospital bed she was a striking young woman. Chocolate skin that glistened, large, doe-like brown eyes framed with long lashes, full lips, and a soft jaw. Jane knew Rebecca had nice feminine curves, a delicate and soft truly female body that men loved. Perhaps Crane wanted Rebecca for himself because of the simple fact that Rebecca was, quite frankly, a fucking bombshell. Whatever the reason, there was a huge chance that she was completely off the mark. No use in thinking about it much longer.

"I worked with Crane before I found out what he was doing," Jane only partially lied, not thinking that Rebecca was ready to hear that her 'savior' was actually a fucking killer-coward. Maybe sometime in the future if Rebecca was around Jane would tell her, but not now. "When I did, I had to go over patient's files, but I saw yours was basically empty. Do you have any close relatives I can get in contact with or anything? You know, to let them know where you are and that you're okay?"

Rebecca snorted, eyes opening to look at Jane curiously. "Nope. No family. Well, I have a grandmother somewhere," she shrugged, "but the last time I heard from her was about five years ago and she was in down in Georgia. I don't know where everyone else is. We all just kind of split up and never talked to each other again when my mom died ten years ago. I couldn't tell you if any of them are alive or dead, actually."

Jane's lips tensed in a tight line. Rebecca had no one to turn to now? Where would the young girl go? She could relate a lot to this girl – she, too, couldn't tell if any of her relatives were alive. She had only known her mother and father, no aunts and uncles or grandmothers and grandfathers to her knowledge. Certainly no siblings. She knew what it was like to be alone in the world, had lived that way for a while. Falcone was probably the closest thing that she ever had to a family a member after her mother left and her father died. And that was just fucking depressing to think about, especially since she put him in jail.

Jane's phone vibrated in her pocket. "You can answer it – it's not going to bother me or anything." Rebecca said. "I'm actually feeling kind of tired right now. You'll come back again though, won't you? I haven't had any visitors besides this one old cop. He's nice, but I'd like to talk to someone else too, you know?"

"Of course I'll come back." Jane gave her a small smile, reaching over to pat her small hand. It was a grandmotherly like gesture, and Jane wondered where in the hell it had come from. Fuck, she was getting old. Standing, she plucked the phone from her pants and glanced down at the screen. Maroni. What the fuck did he want? Looking back up at Rebecca, she saw the young girl was already out cold. Damn those medications were strong. Where could she go to get some?

Jane flipped open the phone and held it to her ear as she walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind her as to not disturb Rebecca. "Jane," she said plainly, speaking like she normally had with Falcone. How long had it been since she used that tone? Too long.

"I'm sure that you've been made aware that I took over as head of the family. Now that Falcone's gone someone needed to step up and make sure our operations kept running." Maroni informed her, a smug edge to his tone. Jane could see him now, his old, snake-like face stuck in a permanent, cocky smile on his face as he patted down one of his numerous khaki suits. He rubbed her the wrong way, always arrogant no matter what the situation was. Maroni was a tricky one, a man that she had come into contact with only a handful amount of times in her dalliances with Falcone.

A businessman first, Maroni had come into favor with Falcone in his early years. Falcone needed cash to expand his criminal empire, and Maroni had given him some, buying his way into the mob without ever doing any dirty work. It was all figures and dollar signs to him. He was oily, self-preserving, and was as sneaky in his business practices as he was in real life. When Jane had first met him, she took an instant dislike to him. An impression that still hadn't worn off no matter how long she knew him.

Maybe it was those fucking khaki suits he always wore. I mean seriously, what man _always _wore khaki suits? Even Falcone had mixed it up a little, wearing darker, normal shades. They were in fucking Gotham for goodness sakes. It'd be different if they were in Florida or some shitty place like that. Wait, did she just refer to Florida as shitty? What the fuck was wrong with her.

Focus, she hissed to herself. "No, I'm afraid no one told me. I've been out of touch with everyone since Falcone left. I was under the impression that the family would just fall apart without his leadership. For a while there it did, so I've been trying to find something to do with my time to earn cash." She clenched her jaw and stepped out of the hospital into the daylight. Squinting against the sun, Jane walked up to the curb and began scanning the streets for a taxi. "Who'd you buy off to gain that title, Maroni?"

He chuckled at her immense displeasure. "It made the most sense, Jane. I have the most invested into this family and am the one person who kept it afloat after Falcone was caught. Understand, I did expect for you to be the one in my place since you were the closest to him, but you disappeared along with him. At first, I thought that you, too, had been arrested along with the men at the docks. But then someone told me that you were still on the streets. What have you been up to, Jane?"

Jane felt a strike of worry cloud her thoughts for a moment. Did Maroni know that she had betrayed Falcone and the mob? A yellow taxi pulled up to the curb beside her and she opened the door, sliding in. She didn't think he did. No one, to her knowledge, knew of her ties to Gordon and Batman. There was no way he could know unless he talked to the men that worked the docks that night. The ones that she attacked would probably say that she had turned against them, but she was pretty sure she could write them off. Fuck the web she had spun.

Yanking her hand through her hair, she struggled to find something to say. She had to appear calm and collected, had to sound confident so that he would believe her lies. Clearing her throat, she replied, "I said I was trying to find something to do with my time. Not many mobs would be willing to take me in due to my close alliance with Falcone. I did odd jobs for a while to stay afloat and keep my apartment. That's basically it. It's only been about three and a half months since his arrest. Nothing much has happened since then. Well, besides the whole Crane attack." Maroni hadn't been subject to Falcone's plans and such when he was around, so there was a good chance Maroni knew nothing about Falcone's own hand in Crane's schemes. No, not Crane's schemes, but Raz Al Ghul's. She had to remind herself that Crane had been a pawn in the elaborate plot to destroy Gotham.

"Oh yes, that was terrible." His voice was less than concerned with that. Of course he wasn't bothered by the horrors that took place that night – Maroni was a fucking millionaire who lived in the nice parts of Gotham. He wasn't concerned with what happened in the Narrows. Bruce was one of the few that she knew did, and in the public eye he wasn't concerned with much more than his women. "I hope that you stayed safe that night. I would hate to know something horrible happened to you." Jane rolled her eyes as the false sentiment, not for one second trusting a single word he said. Why the hell had he called in the first place? Certainly not for idle chatter. "Listen, I called to inquire as if you were going to come back."

"Come back? You mean join you again?" Jane asked, unconcerned with what the cab driver heard. Was Maroni really willing to let her combine with the family again? She didn't think he would, mainly because she didn't know if the crime family had completely disbanded or not. The fact that Maroni has taken charge was still a surprise to her – she still thought him the waif, insipid, annoying creature that he was. Jane hadn't thought he had it in him to take up Falcone's weight. To be completely honest, he didn't have a bat's chance in hell of running the mob effectively. He was probably surprised to see that he couldn't run it like his multiple businesses. Come to think of it, his lack of leadership skills and knowledge of the underground crime world probably was why he wanted for her to come back in.

Maroni sighed on the other end heavily. "Of course. What else did you think I mean? I assumed that you would be quick to grasp the reason as to why I called. It isn't as if we were friends before. You don't have to give me an answer this soon. I understand that it will be quite difficult to come back now that Falcone is gone. You two were fairly close and it will be very different now that I am running things. Just think about it for a few days, and when you're ready, come down to the restaurant and give me an answer. I'll be there at nights, much like Falcone will be. How about…let's see…is Tuesday good for you?"

"Tuesday? Um, yeah, Tuesday's good." Three days. She had three days to decide whether or not she wanted to go back to her old life. Somehow she would have to get in touch with Gordon and tell him about what was going on. He would obviously want to be one of the firsts to know. Jane was suddenly excited – she could go back to actually doing something again! For the past month, she hadn't had anything to do whatsoever. Batman went out at night and did shit to make a difference while Jane lie in the bed restlessly, thinking about how she missed the feel of a gun in her hand.

"Great. I hope you won't disappoint me, Jane." The click she heard through the phone signaled that he had hung up. Jane closed the phone and dropped her hand down to her lap. Looking out the window, a sense of purpose filled her.

Bruce had inspired her to use her skills to make a difference in the world. Or, at least, in Gotham. That night in the Narrows and her brushes with Crane had shown her that there was more to this life than just her own pitiful survival. For too long, Jane had been stuck in the lifeless frame that came with the mindset that her life was the most important. She realized that she was blessed with a decent life – a hard one, but one that didn't force her into encounters with insane men like Crane too often. Jane knew that he had broken her, harmed her on the inside and out, but when she realized how sick of a man he was, how many people he had hurt and would hurt, she was filled with a strong sense of pissed-offness. People like that shouldn't do fucked up shit to other people. It just wasn't right.

Jane wasn't the best person. She had killed, stole, sold drugs, and did some crazy illegal shit, but she was all in all a good person. The past years of her life had been spent in self-preservation, making sure that she survived no matter what. Jane wasn't concerned with doing good deeds or shit, she hadn't changed that much. Basically, she _wanted_ to outlive the people around her whether they were good or evil. But innocent people shouldn't be subject to the whims of the pure evil and crazed. Jane wanted to survive, but not in a world where evil struck fear into the hearts of those who wanted to make a change.

In that aspect, she was a lot like Bruce and yet vastly different. Where Bruce was willing to risk his life to protect people around him, Jane wasn't too sure if she was ready for that kind of sacrifice. She had gone into Gotham's Narrows not only because it was the just thing to do, but also because she figured she had a good chance against those who were terrorizing others. That night had given her a lot of self-realization whenever she thought more about it. Jane's place was to help others. Doing so helped her sleep a lot better inside. She wasn't going to join the fucking Salvation Army or something. No. If she was going to risk her life – she was going to do it _her_ way.

And the only way she knew how to do it was go back to return to her familiar roots.

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Her mind was made up before she stepped into Bruce's grand penthouse. It was made up as soon as she thought about it for a minute. Before, even, she had even hung up the phone after speaking with Maroni. Jane was tired of sitting around and just going to the gym. She _needed _to have something to occupy her mind and body with. After ten years of doing nothing but, she had grown tired of just doing nothing. Jane needed this much like she needed air and water and food. Bruce would probably object. He was so fucking protective of her now that she had predicted basically all that he would throw at her when she told him about it.

It wasn't like she could keep it from him. He was fucking Batman and a fucking Wayne on top of that. Better she tell him herself than he find out later. Jane realized that she had forgotten to text him when she left the hospital, but found that she really didn't give a shit. Bruce shouldn't ask her to do something like that in the first place. She wasn't a damn child.

"Alfred," she smiled warmly at the butler as she walked through the huge apartment heading for her bedroom. Jane wanted to exercise a bit in the downstairs gym before Bruce came home to clear head a bit. She wanted to be prepared for an argument and working out gave her a clearer mind than anything else. Bruce's guardian's eyes regarded her from the top of the newspaper he was hunched over.

He grinned when he saw her, his face becoming a mass of deeply lined skin. "Afternoon Jane." He noticed her brisk pace as she went into the bedroom. "Going down to the gym, I suppose?" Alfred had to shout to be heard.

"Yep!" Jane shucked off the sweater and toed the boots off. She missed her boots more than anything. Biting the inside of her cheek, she slipped off the jeans and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a sports bra. She had little breasts that didn't necessarily require a bra of any kind, but wearing one gave her a feminine feeling that she liked even if she wore overly sized shirts. Putting on tank top and a baggy grey jacket, she went back into the kitchen with her tennis shoes in her hand.

"Master Wayne disappeared down there a few minutes ago." Jane froze as her foot was slid halfway in the shoe. Bruce was here? Gods she didn't want to have this argument right now. But she was already dressed… With a sigh, she slipped her sock covered foot into the shoe then put on the other one.

"All right," she said and zipped the jacket up halfway. It was something that she often wore when she worked with Falcone, old and smelled of smoke, but she loved it nonetheless. Like her plaid shirts, it was a staple piece of hers when the weather began to cool. "See you later Alfred."

The smile on her face disappeared completely into a scowl as she exited the penthouse. Fuck her life.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Teeheehee. Hope you guys enjoy the chapter :D Super fun to write.**

**Huge hugs to everyone who reviewed! I love reading them! AND I LOVE YOU. :)**

**Next update scheduled: September 26**

* * *

Bruce was the only person occupying the gym. Jane was still standing outside the glass door, watching him like a fucking creeper with her hands tucked into the pockets of her over-sized jacket, eyes trailed on his shirtless figure as he did pull-ups. His muscles moved underneath his skin, flexing and tightening before relaxing with every move that he made. He had an immaculate body, one that boasted bands of muscle and told stories with the numerous bruises that decorated it. Some were large and purplish, fresh and newly formed while others were fading into hues of yellow. Jane had always admired bruises and scars, thinking that they told the world that their body had been through something. She wished she had her own bruises, maybe then she wouldn't feel so weak.

Figuring she might as well go on in, she pushed the door open and walked inside as if she wasn't prepared for a battering ram of questions as to why she didn't tell him when she left. She unzipped the jacket and tossed it onto a bench next to where he had his own black hoodie laid upon, crossed her arms over her chest, and waited for him to acknowledge her presence in the room. He heard her - that she was sure of. With the hardening and bulking of his body those scant seven years, his senses had also heightened, almost in a supernatural state at times. Jane's fingers played with the ponytail elastic on her wrist, and she lifted her arms to tie her hair out of her face in a ponytail. Her hair had grown out a little longer. Even tied at her crown the ends brushed up against the base of her neck. She would have to cut it at some point.

Bruce dropped to the ground with a _thump_, knees bending a little as he rolled his shoulders and neck. His back was to her, and she watched his eyes in the mirror as he met her gaze. Chin lifting a little, he turned to look at her fully, his eyes questioning and hard at the same time. They ran down the length of her body once, sending a chill down her spine as she saw – for a second – that lust in them. Even with no make-up and in sweatpants he still wanted her. Fuck, what had she done to deserve someone like him want her in that way? She was used goods – forced upon and damaged more than she wanted to be. The thought of sex made her wince because in her past experiences it came with no pleasure, only a little pain and discomfort. She had only been raped once but that one encounter seemed to be enough to dry her thirsts for sexual intimacy enough.

She spoke first, hating the awkward silence that was stretching between the two of them. "I refuse to apologize for not getting back to you," she challenged, crossing her arms back over her chest. Fuck that apology shit. She was never one to admit she was wrong, and she didn't even think she was at this point.

"I didn't expect you too." He shrugged off the encounter and moved to the bench press. Jane quirked an eyebrow and slowly made her way over to where he was now lying on the red padded bench, his arms raised above his head and gripping the black metal bar. Heavy weights were on either end and sucking in a deep breath, he pushed it up off the holders before pulling it down towards his chest and pushing it up again. Jane once again admired the way he looked as he worked out, eyes boring straight ahead to the ceiling as he never once broke concentration.

"Good. Because I'm not." Bruce didn't break his fast pace. He wasn't lifting as much as he could. She appreciated the way his arms flowed through the motions, almost as if they were breathing instead of working. Bruce made exercising look easy. They were both vastly different exercisers: Bruce focused more on bulking up while Jane did the aerobics and stretching as well as boxing. She figured if she came up on someone who was stronger than her, she could come out on top better if she could contort her body into strange positions in order to get out of headlocks or arm locks and the like. In theory, it was perfect, but it hadn't helped her when she was up against Crane – in honesty though, the little bitch had caught her off guard – and that man when she was down there the second time. After that, Jane came to realize she also needed a hardcore routine involving more kickboxing than she normally had. She had also taken up a little karate and judo, something that would help a thinner, naturally weaker person like herself.

"Maroni called. I'm going back to join the family." Jane went straight for the kill, getting the subject out there and leaving it in the air for him to take however way he wanted. He reacted much like she expected him to, the bar landing on his chest and him swearing under his breath before he pushed it up to lay it back on the holders. "Before you get miffed and flip your shit, just know that nothing you say will make me change my mind."

Bruce sat up instantly, swinging one of his legs around to the other, standing swiftly, and glaring at her with enough anger that should make her cower and give up instantly. It was his Batman glare, and Jane saw the two personas merge into one at that moment for the first time. Jane refused to back down though, glaring back at him and puffing up a little as she braced herself for the verbal battle that was about to ensue. His chest was glistening with sweat, fists formed by his side, and muscles flexing as he visibly struggled to hold himself back.

"After everything that you've been through," he said slowly, calculatingly as his jaw tensed, "you're going back to that life? After _everything_, Jane? You're even _considering _it? I can't believe it – I can't believe you! Why? Why would you want to do that?"

"I don't have to justify anything to you Bruce," she snarled angrily. "I'm a grown woman and can make my own choices. No matter what you've disillusioned yourself with, you don't own me. I'll do whatever the fuck I want whenever I want."

Bruce stepped closer to her and Jane stood her ground. "You're crazy! Going back to Maroni, going back to that life you had. I thought you wanted to get out of it? I thought that you hated it? If not, then why even help Gordon in the first place for so long?"

"What I do with my own life is none of your damn business! I only told you because you would find out anyway and figured you'd appreciate a little heads-up first." She pointed her finger into his chest, jamming it with each enunciation of her words: "_You _told me to make a difference. _You _go out at night and risk _your _life for people who don't even appreciate you! So why can't I do it? I'm not even doing anything completely dangerous! Just playing a part, a charade that I was practically born to do, and one that I have been doing before you even _thought _about being Batman. Don't you remember how we first met? I was with Falcone and trying to make a change while you were still a little rich kid that had more brave than brains."

"That was a long, _long_ time ago Jane. A lot of things have happened in the past seven years and you know as well as I do that that boy is no more. People change – _circumstances _change. Gordon and Loeb no longer need you to put your life at risk like that. They can handle it on their own."

"Oh yeah? Then why the hell are you doing what you're doing?" Jane screamed at him, utterly and completely furious at Bruce's fucked up sense of logic. How could he say that she wasn't needed? That she couldn't do anything? Who the fuck let him be the one to decide what was best for her and for Gotham? Bruce made no fucking sense, pretty much telling her not to do what he was doing. Gotham needed a hell of a lot more than a handful of uncorrupted cops, a change of politicians, and a single vigilante in order to get back together and change completely. "I can't just sit here and do nothing while you go out there and act as if you fucking _run _the town! _I've _been helping Gotham for the past fucking _ten _years and _you've _only been doing it for a few months – with my _fucking _help! What makes you think you can tell_ me _what to do?"

"It's not about that Jane and you know it. This has a lot more to do with what's best for Gotham than me and you."

Jane put her hands on her hips, glaring at Bruce with every bit of wrath she felt – which was a fucking _lot_. "I don't know what your problem is Bruce, but I can take care of myself. We've already been over this and I'm tired of fighting about it. I'm going back to Maroni, with or without your permission because what you say has absolutely no effect on what I decide to do with my life."

Bruce's face dropped from pissed off to a little sad, vacant, and he frowned at her. "Do I really mean that little to you? After everything we've been through, you don't even want to take what I think into consideration?"

Suddenly, she found her resolve waver looking into those full, big brown eyes of his full of such unhappiness that it tugged at her heart. He was hurt at her comment more than anything, and it showed clearly on his face as he looked at her. Jane bit the inside of her cheek, tearing her eyes away from him and crossing her arms over her chest. She felt unexpected guilt wash through her knowing that she was the one who caused Bruce to look so desperate. She didn't want to hurt him. She just wanted to get her point across to him – that she was a strong woman who didn't need him like that anymore. Jane didn't need protection, didn't want it anymore. She wanted to prove to herself that she could still stand on her own two feet surely and confidentially.

"I won't leech off of you anymore," she said, her voice calmer as she looked back to him. Her demeanor was more relaxed, though still tense as she took back her anger and reared it in, shoving it to a corner of her mind so she could think more rationally. "I just…I can't do it, okay? It has nothing to do with you because you have been _more _than kind and understanding. I just need to take a break for a little bit. I'm not used to…all _this_." She waved her hands in between the two of them as if to emphasize her point.

He stepped closer to her, pressing his hands against her wrists before he wrapped his fingers around them and pulled her towards him slowly, gently. Dropping one of her hands, he brushed away a strand of hair, the touch leaving an electric tingle behind it as if it held an electric current. His smell of mint and cologne filled her all around, and Jane blinked as she struggled to retain her coherency. Damn him and his ways of making her knees shake. What the fuck was wrong with her? He tucked the strand behind her ear and leg his finger lag down the skin of her neck, the length of her arm, before finding home at her wrist again.

"You're not a burden to anyone. You could _never _be that," he said softly, his voice soothing over her nerves like a cool stream of tranquil water. It melted her like honey, especially when combined with the way he was looking at her: as if she was the sole thing in the world at the moment. The only thing that mattered to him. "I just worry about you. You're going to get yourself into too much trouble and I may not always be around to save you."

"That's the thing, Bruce. I don't want to always have to rely on you to be there. I want to know that I can still support myself, can still fight back like I used to. Lying in bed at night while you're out there drives me _crazy _because I know I can do something to help too. I _want _to help. I have to. This whole…_protectivness _thing? It's suffocating me. I can't take it anymore or else I'll go crazy. I can fight back, and I can do it with or without your permission or help."

"I have been a bit overbearing, haven't I?" Bruce sighed. Dropping his head back, he looked up to the ceiling for a moment and took in a deep, long breath. Then, he lifted his head up and gazed back down at her. Smiling, he continued without waiting for her to reply to his statement. "I guess I can't stop you from doing what you need to do. Can't say that I'm happy about it."

"Who said you needed to be happy?" She smirked at him and found herself closing the scant inches of space between their bodies. Tilting her head upwards to look at him, she rotated her wrists so that Bruce's hands were now in her own, their fingers now intertwined within each other. "You won't be happy as long as I'm alive because I can kick your ass now that you don't have on all that thick armor of yours."

Bruce chuckled and squeezed his hands. "Oh really? You think so?"

"Oh I _know _so." Jane teased and pressed herself against him, quickly feeling bold as she felt him breathe through the thin fabric of her tank top. His eyes glazed over for a moment as they looked down at her and she snickered playfully before dragging herself away from him, releasing her grip on his hands as she went over to the wrestling mat in the center of one of the walls. "Let's prove it." Jane began stretching out her arms and legs, warming up her muscles as Bruce stepped onto the mat, giving her an incredulous glance. "_No _holding back, because I certainly won't be."

Bruce was silent as she continued to work out her limbs until they felt nice and ready. With one last roll of her shoulders, Jane stepped onto the mat and stood across from Bruce. She bounced on the balls of her feet for a split second then took a nice step back, eyeing him predatorily, one corner of her mouth lifted up into a smile. "Ready?" Fuck she had been waiting for this moment. Bruce and Jane had fought once before, but she was always prohibited from doing any major damage because of his armor that he always wore. She could tell he was talented, but she had always yearned to see how she would do when pitted against him. Call it a dominance thing, call it stupidity, but Jane wanted to know and she was eager to find out what would happen.

He was the first to act out; coming at her, he reached for her arms first and Jane twisted out of his grasp, twirling around and using the momentum to throttle her leg out. Bruce reacted fast, grasping onto her ankle and jerking it towards him harshly. Jane fell to the ground, cursing through her clenched teeth as her hip made contact with the ground. Her leg was still in Bruce's grip. Rolling onto her back, she launched her other foot into his stomach, eliciting a loud grunt before she swiped it to the side and made contact with his forearm. Her leg was knocked from his hand and Jane brought it down to her before using both of her feet to push up back into Bruce's hips so that he was flung away from her.

As Bruce was stumbling backwards, Jane hurriedly stood. She braced herself for his counterattack. Bruce was an offensive fighter while she was more defensive and sure enough, like she predicted, he came at her again, sending one fist down low into her gut. Jane jerked her torso out of the way just in time and elbowed him in the throat. She kneed upwards with all of her leg strength and Bruce groaned. He reached an arm out and grasped her arm in his, pulling her and sending her circling towards him quickly as she tried to pull herself out of his grasp. Her back collided with his naked chest and he wrapped his arm around her chest, yanking her close to him.

Jane struggled a little, trying to get his hands off of her before she finally sent her heel into the toe of his tennis shoes. Smashing her shoe onto his, she moved her head forward before smashing it into his chin. Jane pulled her weight back, curling into his form before she yanked her wrists downwards as well as her entire body, causing Bruce's arms to break against the force and for her to finally be free of his cage. Jane's momentum carried her to the ground and she landed on her palms before she jolted back up, running forward a few steps before turning around sharply to check on Bruce.

He was positively annoyed, his face betraying his usual collected memory as he frowned. Bruce obviously hadn't expected her to put up much of a fight. With a smug expression, she shifted one foot back and balanced her weight between her two legs. "What's wrong Bruce?" She said teasingly, lightheartedly as he glowered in humiliation. "Thought I'd be as easy to get to as those other clowns you fight all the time?" She shook her head, still smiling. "Afraid not. I actually have a fucking brain." She held out her palm and crooked her fingers in a mocking invitation.

Jane watched with amused eyes as Bruce came for her again, only this time, he caught her by surprise by not going for her shoulders like she expected. His hands went for her unprotected waist instead, jolting her back so that she was suddenly falling onto the mat below her. She landed with a loud _umph_, pain exploding everywhere as she gasped. Bruce fell with her as well, and his weight on top of her was heavy and unmovable. Jane clenched her jaw as she sucked in a breath. Bruce looked up at her, except this time, _he _was the one smiling smugly in her face.

Jane wormed her arms from underneath his body and put them on his head. Thinking on impulse, she lifted her own head and put her lips to his. Bruce was shocked at first, clearly not expecting this, but recovered easily and began to kiss her back. His large hands moved from her waist to either side of her head on the mat, lifting his weight off of her so that he could move up her body a bit in a more comfortable position. This allowed Jane to open her legs for him, Bruce settling between them as if the exposed space was made for him, fitting nicely to her body like a missing puzzle piece.

She caressed his lips with her tongue before sliding it into his awaiting mouth, lost in his taste once more as she deepened the heated kiss with a moan. Jane arched her back into him, tightening her legs around his waist as her blood boiled hotter under her skin, lust driving her insane as she shamelessly grinded herself against him. Bruce trailed one hand down to her calf, wrapping his grip around it before hoisting it to place it around his hip, opening her up even more underneath him.

Arching that side into him, an idea clicked in her head. She fought against the haze of lust and the wonderful feeling of Bruce pressed against her. Bringing her body back down to the mat, she laid it down completely before hoisting it back up as if she was in a passionate state of mind. Doing this again, she carried the move and used the drive to push Bruce onto his back. Jane quickly rested, straddling his hips as she continued to kiss him so he wouldn't know what she was doing. Bruce hands shot to her waist, pulling her against his waist.

A few moments later, Jane moved her own hands to his that rested on her bony hips. Curling her fingers around his, she pried them off slowly, tugging them off, and moved them to that they were on the mat at his head. She pushed them upwards, lowering her body to lie on top of his as she stretched her arms so his moved above his head. Her body was pulled tight and taunt against his, and Jane had to admit that in any other circumstance, the move would be impeccably sexy. But not now. She had to prove to herself that she could beat Bruce at his own game.

When she knew that he was totally unaware as to what she was doing, she smiled against his lips, breaking contact so that she could take in a deep breath. Their eyes slowly opened, and Bruce's were darkened with pure desire as she was constrained against him. Her ponytail was flopped over her shoulders, dangling down and Jane had a flashback to the night the second time they encountered one another. Of course then, she had come to warn him that Falcone was after him, not trying to seduce him in distraction so that she could overpower him.

Fuck that was a long time ago.

Jane rolled herself forward onto her knees, picking up her body off his for a moment, and then jumped awkwardly off of them, using her hands on his as a little anchor as her knees landed smack dab on the center of his chest. All of her weight pressed into him, his eyes widened in shock and she felt him tug his arms down, but she kept her grip tight, bearing down on him heavily, and he was only able to gain a little ground, opening up the area around his neck a little. "Gotcha, Mr. Wayne." She smiled, sliding forward so that her knees were now on the ground, resting in the open space. Jane tugged his arms down more so that she could have more room, and squeezed her legs a little to show that she could choke him easily here and he wouldn't be able to do anything to stop her.

"You cheated." He said disapprovingly, narrowing his eyes at her. Jane's smirk deepened at his accusing tone. Such a man indeed. Bruce could have had her easily a few times, but he still held back until he had her pressed against the mat. He could have won their little tussle there quickly. Instead, he fell prey once she put the prospect of sex into his thoughts. A cold move, especially since she had failed in the past to go through with the act, but she never said she played fair.

Jane let go of his arms and sat up on her spot at the top of his chest. She shrugged, taking out her ponytail and running her fingers through her hair. "I said to not hold back and you did. I can't help that I took advantage of your…_weaknesses_. You thought with your dick, not your head, and you lost. I can't help that." Crossing her arms over her chest, she kept the self-satisfied smirk on her face.

Bruce's hands snapped up to the sides of her torso, and he twisted her down and over so that their positions were switched again – he on top of her and she under him. His face, however, was just below her waist, and when she lifted herself onto her elbows to look down at him she felt a sharp current run down her back at his position as well as the wicked gleam in his eyes. Slacking her knees, they parted open further, and she bit her lip at the sight of his face between her legs.

"Fine," he whispered seductively, his hands sliding down to her hips, his elbows pointing upwards as he pushed up the fabric of her tank top a little, exposing a pale sliver of flesh. Jane gulped as he lifted his head from her groin to kiss that tiny amount of skin, eyes never breaking contact with her as he did it. Biting the inside of her cheek, she lowered her gaze to his lips on her skin as he pushed the tank top up a little more, kissing more skin as he went. He moved at a painstakingly slow pace, leaving a trail of pure fire with each kiss and touch, and Jane found she was unable to speak as she became horribly and fully aroused.

_Fuck _how did he have this effect on her? The way he went made her dizzy, the way his soft lips felt against the skin of her hips was so simple yet so pleasurable and teasing that it made her want to scream out. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck_. "You win," he continued, swiping his thumbs across her exposed hipbones. "I guess this means I need to reward you?"

Jane swallowed at the words.

Oh fuck.

Was it normal for her to feel this way? She desired to jump on him like a leopard and have her way. He was so damn sexy and playful that it made her want to either tear her hair out or to grab him and never let go. Bruce knew just what to do and it was driving her _wild_. Jane felt that unfamiliar wetness in her underwear, and she bit her lip as he dropped his eyes from watching her to that swatch of skin glowing under the gym lights.

She wanted to be rewarded by him. Oh _fuck _did she want him to.

The glass door opened, and Jane's head snapped up to glare at whoever had dared to intrude at this moment. The person looked up; face immediately growing a bright shade of red as he took in Bruce's and Jane's current position. Jane was brought back into reality, and she snapped out of the lust-induced haze, scooting back on the mat. She practically jumped up, tugging down her tank top. She was a little sweaty from her fight with Bruce, and she felt a blush grow on her cheeks as tucked her hair behind her ears.

"S-Sorry," the man stuttered. He turned to flee outside the door when Jane grabbed her jacket off the bench. She left before he could have a chance to do anything, the door closing behind her as she hurriedly went to the elevator, her face still warm from the intense desire that she felt. Fuck that was embarrassing. How far would they have gone if that man hadn't walked in? Was she ready for that yet?

Yanking the jacket on, she stepped into the waiting elevator and clicked the top floor. The doors slid closed, the expensive and swanky box gliding upwards. Jane rested her head on the wall, closing her eyes as she tried to calm her hyperactive nerves. Never in her _life _had she wanted someone so bad, so shamelessly before. She was high on winning against her fight with Bruce and the surging adrenaline from Bruce bringing her to a new heightened state of arousal, stimulating her with a mere caress of her hip and a few kisses around the skin of her waist. But _fuck _it had been so hot. And damn her, she wanted to run back and forget about the man who had stopped them.

The elevator dinged, signaling that she reached her floor, and she stepped out, zipping up the jacket as she went. Opening the door, she went in, her hands pushing back her frazzled hair before she put it back into a comfortable and tolerable ponytail. Stretching her arms up over her head, she sighed heavily, looking around for Alfred. Not seeing him, Jane made her way to her bedroom, closing the door with her hip before shedding the jacket and tossing it to the bed. She pulled off her tank top as well as her sweatpants, desperately needed a cold shower after sweating and…well…yeah.

Just as her hands slid the pants down, her bedroom door opened fully, and Jane's head turned to look over her shoulder at Bruce standing in the doorway. Hastily, she yanked the garment back up into place, pivoting around to look at him fully. He wore a black shirt now, the fabric tight across his chest and arms, his hair a bit mused, but his eyes were light and happy, staring at her with an air of amusement and playfulness that she didn't get to see a lot.

Her arms naturally went into their favorite position – just underneath her chest and she arched an eyebrow at his unmoving figure. "Did you need something, Bruce?" She asked haughtily. "I didn't give you permission to come into my bedroom, I believe."

He chuckled, stepping inside. He closed the door and her heart rate quickened a little at the knowledge that she was alone in the bedroom with him. Fuck she was such a child. "This is _my _penthouse, I believe. I can do whatever I want _when _I want." His tone was slightly mocking, repeating the words she had thrown at him so viciously a scant fifteen minutes earlier. Bruce was close to her now – to close. That yearning to reach out and touch him returned with a vengeance and she stepped back, turning to walk towards the bathroom door.

"Sorry, but I was in the middle of something." She called over her shoulder, opening the door, and moving to go inside when Bruce caught her wrist on the doorknob. Jane looked down at it, his hand wrapped solidly around her thin wrist like an anchor.

"_We _were in the middle of something, I believe," he teased, pulling her lightly back towards him. Jane went not unwillingly yet not willingly at the same time. She neither resisted the movement nor tried to stop it. Instead, she let her body fall back with his reeling like a fish on a hook, flowing with the tug as her hand dropped from the knob, her body now falling back into his. She was pressed up against his chest, her head rolling back to rest against his strong muscles as she sucked in a deep breath. Something about him made her lose her damn mind.

"Please, Bruce," she said in a breathy tone as his free hand went to cup the curve of her exposed waist with his palm. Nuzzling into the side of her neck, he took in a deep breath and she arched it away a little to give him more room even though she just wanted to be in the shower right now. Jane sighed as he kissed the skin a little there, much like he had around her waist area on the gym. "Not...right now," she protested weakly, producing an entertained chuckle from Bruce. "No, I'm serious." Jane walked out of his grip and went into the bathroom door archway, facing him. "I need to take a bath."

She went inside, shutting the door and locking it just in case he got any funny ideas. Jane took out her hair and flipped it behind her shoulder. She turned the hot water knobs on the shower and shed the remainder of her clothes, kicking them over to a corner while the water heated up. Bracing her hands on the sink, she took in a shaky breath, trying to ignore the presence outside the door that practically called out to her.

Looking up at the mirror, Jane's eyes first went to the pinkish scar on her shoulder from where Crane had stabbed her. It had healed almost completely, and she liked the way it looked. She had a few bruise forming around her stomach from where Bruce had punched her earlier, but it was nothing serious. Her blonde hair hung around her face with a slight wave to it, stopping at the middle of her back, and appeared a shade lighter than normal due to the bright lights. Her blue-grey eyes were tired, a little too bright though to be considered exhausted. Skin pale and glowing from the flattering light. Her lips were a pretty shape, full without being overwhelming, and a pale pink in color.

Jane had high cheekbones, sallow cheeks that came from working out all the time and losing most of the weight she would gain otherwise. She had a long, leanly muscled, but lanky figure. Rock hard abs and killer arms that she loved. Jane didn't put much emphasis on beauty, herself being a fairly plain-looking girl. Pretty? Maybe, but no bombshell. Average. But strong. Very strong with a sweet and innocent look that played to her favor a lot of times. Even Bruce, who knew somewhat what she could do, hadn't believed that she could beat him. And she did.

Sighing, she pushed off the counter and went to the shower to wash off the stress and still aroused state she was in.

Jane wrapped the towel snugly around her thinking just how damn fluffy it was and how good if felt on her skin. She shut off the water, reached up to squeeze excess water out of her hair, and went to the door, unlocking it before she opened it and went back into the bedroom. One of her hands was still on her towel, holding it tightly so that it blocked the rather chilly temperature Alfred like to keep the penthouse in. When she closed the door behind her, she looked up from the floor to see Bruce lying on her bed, his arms locked behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. When he heard her close the door, his head turned to stare at her.

She suddenly felt a little self-conscious, her skin still wet from the shower and her hair in a curly mop around her head, but wait – why the fuck was he still in her room? Furrowing her brow, she pulled the white towel closer to her, hyperaware of the large spans of thigh and body she was showing. But he had seen more. He had rescued her practically naked before after all.

"What are you doing, Bruce?" She asked, trying to make her voice sound as bored as possible. He swung his legs over the bed instead of answering, standing from the mattress slowly. There was little light in the room, night now cloaking the city in a heavy veil of darkness, but Jane could see that present glisten in his eyes, that wild excitement and lust that lie beneath it. Bruce stepped towards her and a smirk played on the corners of his lips.

"I told you I would reward you," his eyes dropped to the top edge of the towel. He lifted a hand, placing his fingers on it with a featherlike touch, tracing it slowly as Jane took in a shaky breath. The movement was slow, burning into her much like his smaller touches often did. They ignited a flame within her like no other, much more potent than any other form of seduction could do. "So, I am."

Fuck.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Psh, you guys I'm never good with schedules. See you at the bottom ;)**

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Jane's eyes dropped to where Bruce's touch was at the upper edge of her towel, his fingers playing along the top delicately though they scorched through her skin like fire. She watched, biting the inside of her cheek, as he curled them, the tips of his fingers disappearing into the towel, and he froze them there. When she gazed back up at him, she saw that he was watching her carefully, gauging her reactions. He wouldn't go further if she didn't want him to. Bruce was only going to do what she was comfortable with him doing. Gratitude filled her and Jane knew at that moment that she could not hold out any longer. Bruce wasn't Crane, he wouldn't hurt her. Bruce would do whatever it took to take care of her, to make sure that she was happy and satisfied with what was going on. He wouldn't take what wasn't rightfully his, and Jane realized that she trusted him more than she trusted any other person before.

Physical intimacy with someone was still a sore point for her. She was nervous as hell, nervous at not only exposing her flesh to his eyes, but also her inner heart and soul for him. Sex to her was more than just sex; it was a way to show someone just how much you cared for them as well as showing that intense level of trust that you had for them. Jane wasn't a virgin, but standing here in front of Bruce she felt like one. She knew that she couldn't have a better partner for this than him – Bruce being extremely caring and kind. Standing here, right now, right at this instant, she wanted to share this with him more than she wanted anything else in the world.

Confirmation in her eyes, she moved her hand from where it held the towel, dragging it slowly across her until she rested it gently on Bruce's. Holding his hand in hers, she tugged at him slightly, giving him the _okay_, and the towel slid from its spot on her body and dropped to the floor, bunching around at her ankles. Jane took in a deep, level breath, never once breaking contact with his hand as her bashful eyes finally rose up to his. She felt his scrutinizing gaze and she resisted the urge to draw her arms across her body as his eyes washed over her like silk, taking her in as if he were memorizing her form, committing it to his memory. Jane had grown proud of her body. Proud of her muscular form that told the story of countless hours spent in the gym training. Proud of her scars and bruises that burned the memory of the horrible things she had witnessed and been through into both her flesh and mind.

Proud of herself.

Her cheeks grew a little warmer, and Jane dropped his hand to lift both of her shaky ones to the hem of his shirt. Bruce understood what she wanted, and as she drug the fabric up – taking a step closer to him – he held his arms above his head. She rose up onto her tiptoes as she got the final inches off of him, and when the shirt was finally completely off she tossed it into a corner. Her hands went to his shoulders instantly, her eyes roaming over the skin that she had seen so many times yet it seemed different in this circumstance. Almost as if she was seeing it for the first time. His skin underneath her light touch was smooth, hairless as she drew her hands down his chest slowly. When she reached his stomach, she could feel the powerful muscles ripple, as was the same feeling she felt when she ran her touch back up and over his shoulders to his back and then down the length of his arms until they reached his hands again.

Curling her fingers around his, Jane stepped even closer, pressing their naked chests together. Bruce had made no move – leaving the leading of their little dance up to her. She controlled the pace, the tempo of what was happening, and she knew she would be forever grateful for that. He wasn't completely naked yet, the fabric of his sweatpants tickling her legs a little as she stepped closer to him, practically forming her body to his as she squeezed her hand around his. Maybe one day if they were still together she could have rough and passionate sex, but for now? She wanted to take it slowly. Jane was still trying to guard her mind against the memories of Crane's touch, and she wanted to replace those with new ones of Bruce's. She wanted to feel a loving, gentle touch upon her flesh, not a hard, unyielding and unwelcome one.

Taking in a shallow, unsteady breath, Jane pressed her lips to his. Bruce came alive under her kiss this time, letting go of one of her hands to place itself at her neck, drawing her closer to him as she put her free hand into his hair. She fucking loved the way he tasted, so clean and fresh to her. Somehow, even though the thought might be stupid, Jane felt as if she were kissing a fresh spring of water. She parted her lips, allowing his tongue a safe haven inside her mouth as she caressed his with her own. His hand at her neck fell naturally to her waist, wrapping around her strongly and securely. Her body was pressed completely against his. The hand gliding across the sensitive skin of her back gave her goose bumps, sending a chilling sensation up the length of her body, and she shivered against him, moaning a little as she leaned further into him.

Bruce let go of her hand, allowing it to find purchase in his hair like her other was, her fingers wrapping around the thick brown strands, pulling him closer and closer into her, deepening the kiss into a passionate, heated one. Bruce snaked his arms around her lower back, bending down a little so that now he was almost a little shorter than she. Grasping her thighs, he hauled her up, her legs snapping around to clench around his waist as he held her. Jane supported most of her weight on her elbows at his shoulders, a little whimper escaping her as Bruce moved the two of them to the wall, pressing Jane's back against the hard, unforgiving surface.

Jane broke the kiss and gasped as Bruce grinded into her, her eyes clenching and her head falling back to thump against the wall. Fuck, he felt so good up against her right there, and she never wanted him to stop. Feeling Bruce's smug smile against the skin of her neck, Jane squeezed her fingers harder in his hair, yanking the strands as he sucked the thin flesh just under her ear. He boosted her up higher to give her better access, and she clawed at him as she was now raised a head taller than him, her collarbone now the object of his relentless assault with his lips on her.

"Fuck," she whispered to herself as she let her head fall forward, her forehead resting against the top of his head. Bruce pressed her further against the wall, and she found herself immobile against the hard surface of the wall behind her and Bruce's solid body in front of her. She let a whimper escape her lips again. Turning her head to the side, she pressed her chest closer to him as his lips trailed over the gentle slope of her shoulders, and she sighed in content at the feeling. Yes, this was perfect. This was what sex should feel like. Her entire body was flushed, on fire from Bruce being all around her, pressing against her, his lips on her skin, and his hands at her waist. He was doting on her, ravishing her body and she was fully allowing him to do it, reaping the rewards of the intense pleasure it brought her.

She loved every minute of it.

Bruce released his grip on her thighs, and her body fell a tad until he pushed against her, stopping her body so that she was now eye-level with him instead of above him. Slowly, she opened her eyes to find him looking back at her, their shaky breaths washing over each other's faces, caressing cheeks and eyelids sensually. As her blue ones met his brown ones, Jane suddenly found herself a little afraid. She didn't know what to do, didn't know what she could offer in this intimate setting. Little experience hadn't given her much to go by, and she was suddenly afraid that what she had to give to him wouldn't be enough. How could she make it as pleasurable for him as it was for her?

Biting the inside of her cheek, she swallowed thickly. Jane was not only nervous about not pleasing him, but also about exposing so much of herself to him. Now that they were so close…it seemed _frightening. _She knew she could trust him wholly and completely, but…what would happen to the two of them once they went through with it? Once they crossed this line they couldn't go back. It could end drastically bad for them or open up so many doors for the future. This one moment, this one act, could change everything in the end. It could form an impenetrable fortress for their relationship or it could tear down whatever foundation they already had. Was she willing to risk that?

"What are you thinking about?" Bruce whispered as he placed his forehead against hers, lifting one of his hands to softly caress her cheek softly, stroking his thumb across her cheekbones with a feather-like touch that was almost...lovingly.

"I'm scared," she admitted, and half expected him to pull away from her. He didn't though, his hand not breaking rhythm as it circled around her skin, and he turned his head to side slightly in thought, eyes shifting over to watch his movements as she continued to watch his face, gauging _his_ reaction at her admittance.

"Me too. This is a bit deal for the both of us," Bruce blinked and his eyes went back to her. "I'm not like I am in the papers, and you know that. This means a lot to me as well."

"What if it goes wrong? What if…I can't please you?" Normally Jane was cool and confident, if not a little cocky sometimes. But this? She knew nothing about this. Give her a gun, a knife, or someone to beat up and she could do that perfectly. She could even manipulate someone into doing what she wanted them to do. Sex though…it was an alien concept to her, one that she wasn't familiar with at all.

Bruce didn't laugh at her embarrassing statement, merely ran his hand on her cheek to cup her chin tenderly, bringing her face to him as he kissed her softly. Jane dropped her arms to wrap around his neck, pulling herself slightly towards him at the sweet motion. Breaking away, he hovered a scant few centimeters away as he spoke. "You could _never_ not please me."

Jane felt a surge of confidence run through her at his words, and she pressed her lips back against his, shifting her hips forward so that she sat on him once again fully. In the position she was in she could feel his arousal against her, and she let out a surprising gasp at it. Bruce shifted his hands on her, once again gripping the backs of her thighs as he pulled the two of them off the wall, turning around and walking them to the bed. She was light in his muscular arms and he didn't once break grip from her. Even when he lowered her to the bed, he still maintained that flush contact with her, his skin still right up against hers.

Moving her hands from his neck, she broke them apart and ran them down his back, lightly drawing her nails across him as she angled her hips upwards and arched her back into him further. His growing need was pressed directly up against hers, and a strangled moan that was a little muffled by Bruce's mouth on hers broke free as it brushed against her. Jane's fingers pulled at the waistband of his sweatpants, eager to feel him completely bare against her. He had said so himself – she couldn't _not _please him. Those five words gave her a sense of empowerment, charging her and making her want him at that precise moment. She knew she was more than ready for him. The wetness around her thighs could account to that. The budding of her breasts as they rubbed against hers, and the hyperactive sense of touch could also testified her need and desire to have him right then, _right _there.

Bruce moved his hands to cover hers at the sides of his hips as they tried to wiggle the offending fabric off. He broke apart for an instant, her body crying out to have him up against her once more. He slipped the pants and boxers off easily, stepping out of them, and Jane sat up on her forearms, putting one arm around his neck as the other held her up in the position. She crashed her lips against his and Bruce leaned down into her this time.

Putting his hands on her hips, he helped her move towards the center of the bed. Once they got into the center, he pushed her down onto the mattress, her head landing on a pillow. Bruce's eyes roamed down her, once more taking her in as if she was the most beautiful thing in the world. Blushing instantly, Jane put her hands on his upper arms and dragged him back down on top of her, once again having that skin-to-skin contact that she craved. His cock was against her thighs, and she splayed her knees more on either side of him so he could settle comfortably there.

Jane arched into him as his lips attacked her neck, her eyes slowly sliding closed. One of his hands trailed down the gentle curve of her waist and the outside of her thigh, and when it rounded around her to move towards her center she gasped, eyes flying open. He ran his fingers carefully along her shaven folds almost as he was caressing a delicate flower. Jane's hips moved of their own accord as he slipped them in between the tender flesh, running them up and down her as she let out a loud cry. Biting her lip, she struggled to retain her control as he traced small patterns along her clit, her body shaking as her back completely arched off the bed, the pleasure making her see stars in her eyes as he replaced his fingers with the touch of his thumb.

His fingers instead entered her, one at first before he joined it with another. Jane hissed and angled her hips closer to his hand as he curled them inside of her, reaching completely inwards before withdrawing. They cycled the torturous movement, stretching her inner walls as she clenched around them from the combined pleasure of his lips on her neck, his thumb on her sensitive bud, and his fingers inside of her. Bruce rolled his fingers forward inside of her, brushing up against a spot that instantly made her cry out again, her eyes clenching shut they rolled to the back of her head. Oh _fuck_. Fuck. He did it again, and she bucked her hips against him, her body crashing back down onto the bed before bending upwards again. One of her hands was on the bed below her, gaining her a shaky leverage as she rode out the feelings he gave her. The other arm was thrown over his shoulders, pulling her body up against his.

She bit her lip so hard she was surprised it wasn't bleeding. Bruce was skillfully manipulating her into submission, and she choked out a whimper as she opened her eyes to see him watching her face, eyes glazed over with intense lust. He thrust his fingers into her once more before withdrawing his hand completely, much to her immense displeasure. Jane thirsted for a hunger that she knew wouldn't go away until Bruce made it. Her body was ignited with passion and pure lust, the drive to be brought to ecstasy like none she ever felt before. She pressed her lips against hers, snaking her tongue against his instantly as she continued to grind her hips shamelessly against his, seeking that release that her body was craving.

Bruce grasped her hips and flipped the two of them over. Jane was lying on his chest, her lips still against his, except now she was directly on top of him, straddling him. Startled, she broke away, moving her head upwards a bit as she looked down at him in confusion. Her wet hair fell over her shoulders, veiling the two of them. "Do what feels right to you." Bruce breathed, moving a hand to push all of her hair over one shoulder.

A bit nervously, Jane sat up completely, steadying herself by placing hand on his chest. She shifted her body down a little, raising her hips to be directly over his impressively sized cock. Positioning herself appropriately, she watched as she slowly slid down his length, watching as he disappeared inside her. Jane was nearly sent over the edge with just the sight of the two of them joining, her walls instantly snugging closer together as they clasped around him. Bruce hissed, and Jane lifted her head to see his eyes were closed, hands forming fists by his sides.

He stretched her completely. If she hadn't been so aroused, the joining would have hurt like fuck. She found that she liked the feeling of being filled wholly, as if a part of her had been missing but was now filling that gap. It felt… right to her. Perfect. As if Bruce and she belonged together…to do this for the rest of their lives. Rocking her hips slowly, Jane bit her lip as she moaned at the sensation that the tiny movements were giving her. She kept her eyes on Bruce's face, loving the way that he seemed lost in the pleasure of it as well. "Oh, _fuck_," she said as he touched a part deep inside her that lit her on fire.

Jane didn't like that he was no longer touching her. Lifting her hands off of his chest, she grasped his hands that were fisting the fabric of the bed sheet. She knew he wanted to touch her, but was restraining himself for _her_. As she kept making tight circles with her hips, she pulled them off sheet, clutching them in her hands. She placed them on her waist, and his eyes slid open, catching her gaze as he noticed her watching him, gauging his reactions. Jane whimpered as her body became more sensitive, leaning backwards to place her hands on his knees to gain more leverage. She grinded into him a little harder, moving her hips in super tight and hard circles around his cock, using him to bring her to that ultimate pleasure. Eyes sliding closed, her head fell back, hair falling out behind her as she bit her lip so much that she actually broke skin this time. She tasted blood in her mouth but ignored it completely, the tiny amount of pain actually enhancing the intenseness of the moment.

"Bruce," she whispered needily into the air, squeezing her grip on his knees as she lifted her hips and crashed them back down on them. His hands tightened on her hips and she cried out, begging him to help her reach that climax her body wanted so desperately. He obliged, and with his help, Jane raised herself up onto her knees before slamming them back down. From the angle she was in, Bruce was able to reach a little deeper inside her, but still not deeply enough. There wasn't enough of something to make her spill over that edge. Squeezing her inner muscles, she lifted herself up, leaning over Bruce, stretching out over him, and putting her lips to his as she rocked her hips up and down on his.

Her hands lay on the pillow behind his head. They formed tight fists, nails biting through her skin as she moaned into his mouth at the motions. _Fuck_ he felt amazing inside her.

Bruce kissed her back almost possessively, helping her keep her rhythm with his hands steadily on her hips, pulling her closer to him and keeping her swaying against him. Jane arched her back, the new angle his cock was sliding inside her changing and causing her to groan heavily against him, her eyes clenching closed as he reached into her. Her body fell forward more so onto his, she almost collapsed against him as she groaned. Still, she needed something _more_.

"Please," she breathed against his lips in a plea. She couldn't explain it if she tried. Too many sensations left words dying on her lips, the overwhelming feel of him underneath her and in her totally wiping out the coherent parts of her brain as she struggled to try to put into words and thoughts exactly what she wanted – needed – so desperately. Bruce seemed to understand nonetheless, and snapped upwards. He was now sitting up underneath her, Jane's knees digging into the mattress as she pushed her fingers into his hair. She shifted forward onto her knees, Bruce slipping out of her completely before he pulled her right back down on him with force.

A distorted yelp tore through her as Bruce entered her harder and deeper than he had before. It wasn't from pain, but pure pleasure as the shocks of his thrust sent bolts of it throughout her body. She clenched her hands harder into his hair, her walls snugly grasping onto his cock more, and Bruce groaned in pleasure as she tightened around him. He pulled her up again, Jane rocking forward before she collided back down on top of him again. Bruce's cock touched that place deep inside her, sending white-hot energy and pleasure through her as she struggled to keep her mouth closed so the embarrassing sounds wouldn't escape.

Bruce helped her pick herself up again and again, bringing her back down and shooting sparks of euphoria through her. She was reduced to a trembling mess, so close to that edge she had been desperately seeking. _So close_. Just a little bit more…

He picked up the tempo, a growl escaping that she would have laughed at if she hadn't been absorbed by her own personal desire to reach the end. Panting, she sped along with Bruce, rushing to reach the end for the both of them. Yanking Bruce's head back, she crashed her lips to his, molding them perfectly as she continued to move against him. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, biting it gently between his teeth and Jane whimpered as she slammed back down against him, her shoulders caving forward slightly to hunch around him as her hands formed fists in his hair. Her own wet locks veiled around the two of them again making it appear as if the two were in their own little world.

With one last push, Jane fell over the edge with a cry. She moaned out his name, falling against him as her body jerked as the orgasm ripped through her, tearing her into little pieces of ecstasy so intense that it was almost unreal. She was soaring. Her body falling apart at the seams as she clutched to him further, legs snapping around his body as she felt her walls squeeze tightly around him at her release. Body quivering, Bruce sped up just slightly before he, too, fell over the edge into his orgasm, releasing with a low murmur of her name and shooting a little more pleasure at the feel of him inside her super sensitive body.

Jane struggled to breathe; sighing as she slowly came down from her high. Completely spent, her body slacking against his as she laid her head on his shoulder facing his throat, and she tried to catch her breath that seemed to escape her, much like her thoughts as they settled down. Bruce hugged her to him as he also came down from his orgasm. He was still inside her, Jane still sitting in his lap as she smiled contently against his neck.

Not saying a word, she closed her eyes and let Bruce pull her tightly against his chest. He brought the two of them down, slipping out of her as he brought the ends of the comforter around to cocoon them together. Jane snuggled against him, her arms wrapped around him as he put one hand in her hair, stroking it softly and the other curled around her waist. She felt so content, lazy, and perfect as she lay against him. This was how sex was supposed to be. Now she understood why people liked it so much…

Chuckling quietly to herself, Jane took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Tiredness leeched into her bones and she drifted off into sleep.

* * *

Jane woke the next morning still curled against Bruce. For a moment, when her eyes slid open to register the sharp angles of his face, she thought that she was dreaming. She hadn't woken up like this in a long time, and she suddenly remembered the feel of safety and security as she lie there. The sun came in through a tiny sliver on the far window, brightening a tiny strip of the flooring but not the rest of the room. The sheets were drawn tightly around their waists, somehow falling off of them during the night without Bruce holding them in place anymore. She had one hand tucked halfway underneath her chest and his, her body lying parallel on his. From the looks of it, Bruce was still asleep, his eyes still closed and his breathing regular.

Staying there for a few more moments, Jane couldn't help but feel nothing but gratitude and…something else? Last night had been amazing for her nonetheless, and curiosity was screaming for her to know what it had been like for him as well. She knew he had at least gotten off, experiencing pleasure or else he wouldn't have, well, yeah. Jane curled her fingers on his chest and then laid them flat on his skin, feeling him as he breathed in his sleep.

Bruce's eyes opened, and she felt him take in a sharp intake of breath. Jane picked her head up off his chest and looked at him as he blinked a few times before meeting her gaze. Her heart did a fluttering motion as he smiled at her, bringing her up a little on his body to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. "What a fucking sensitive man you are," she teased but enjoyed the tender notion as she dropped back down into her prior position. Placing her head back on his chest, she sighed deeply, relaxing into him. "So, uh… How was last night? You know…for you?"

She felt him shift beneath her and he once again held her face in his hand, tilting her chin upwards to look at him. His eyes were sincere, lust replaced by a deep caring that struck her to her core and made her lips part as she sucked in a deep breath. "It was amazing." The moment was so fucking corny and cheesy and romantic-y that she wanted to laugh and break the tension between them, break that almost loving gaze that he trailed on her face. It exposed her more than being naked ever could, and Jane bit the inside of her cheek, going on pure instinct since she had nothing else to go by. No experience. No mother and father memories.

Sliding up, she pushed herself, her body dragging on his as she hovered over him. Her hair fell over her left shoulder, one strand dangling on the opposite side, and she lowered herself down to brush her lips against his just a little. She teased him, signaling for him to be the one to rise up. Jane needed for him to prove that he still wanted her. That sex hadn't diminished that hunger for her that he had. She needed conformation that the fire was there inside him still, and that it hadn't disappeared now that it had been quenched once. Because her's definitely hadn't. In fact, it only made her desire him more. More and more and _more_. Every day, every hour, every _minute _she wanted him. The fire had calmed considerably but it hadn't disappeared. Jane had to know that his hadn't either.

Bruce responded by rising, pushing his lips against hers. The kiss was deepened as the two of them parted their lips, Bruce's hand winding around her strands as he pulled her closer to him. Jane smiled against his lips, the answer to her fears evident as Bruce slowly turned them so that he was on top of her now, his left arm latched onto her side, stroking the skin on the side of her ribs softly, caressing it gently. His weight on her forced her to sink into the soft bed, the pillows fluffing around her, cushioning her, enveloping her as Bruce pressed down onto her, their naked skin flush against each other.

She pushed at his shoulder a little, and the two rolled over again. A little fight ensued about who would be on top, Jane and Bruce laughing against each other as they nearly rolled off the bed. "You were on top last night," he protested weakly as she curled one leg around his. Jane eyed him from above, lips breaking into a smile.

"Maybe I like being on top."

Bruce hummed, leaning forward to press his lips to hers as he drew little circles at her ribs. "Maybe I like you on top, too. Though next time, we may have to change that…" A little thrilling sensation shot down her at the prospect of having sex with Bruce again and she brushed her lips against his.

Jane slacked against his body and kissed him deeper. She sighed against his lips. With one last sweep of her tongue against his, she broke apart, putting her hands on the sheets on either side of his head and holding herself up off him. She gazed down at him, shifting her weight to one hand so that her other could swipe her hair over onto one shoulder. Placing it back down beside him, she huffed. "I need to go shower." She stated blatantly, and then rolled off of him. Crawling out of the sheets, Jane stood and walked to the bathroom. She felt Bruce's eyes on her and she smiled to herself as she closed the door.

Thirty minutes later, Jane was washed, dressed in one of her plaid button downs, a pair of jeans, and her boots. She liked it better when she wore these clothes. It made her feel more comfortable, more like herself. It was silly, but she felt like the staple piece of her clothing gave her a familiar sense of how her life used to be, something like a safety blanket in this new world that she was in. Fingering the last few buttons, she left the bedroom – Bruce had left when she was in the shower – and went into the kitchen. Alfred was gone, Bruce standing in the kitchen. Jane saw him through the square cut-out that overlooked the rest of the apartment. She knew that this wasn't his biggest apartment in Gotham, his largest being in another building closer to Wayne Towers further into the city. Even though this one was extravagant, she knew it was more homely than his others. She had yet to visit his huge one, but Bruce had promised to take her to it one day.

Her hair a ruffled but dry mess around her head, she walked into the kitchen and leaned against the archway, folding her arms across her chest as she watched, amused, as Bruce cooked. He had his sweatpants slung low on his hips, shirtless as he flipped a pancake from the frying pan onto a nice sized stack. "Look at you. A nice little housewife." Jane chuckled and Bruce turned to smile at her.

"Oh really? Do I _look _like a housewife?" He held out a hand, which she took, and he yanked her towards him. She stumbled a little, the force catching her off guard. "Or, better yet, do I _fuck_ like a housewife?" Jane blushed instantly at the memory of last night. Swatting him on the arm, she pretended to be abashed in horror at his crude term.

"Maybe you do and I just don't want to hurt your feelings." Jane poked him in the chest and yanked her hand out of his. Little fucker. They both knew what she said was a lie. Instead of pointing it out though, she turned to eye the pancakes hungrily, licking her lips. "I'm fucking _starving._ When can we eat?"

Bruce eyed her devilishly, smirking as she faced him again. "Well, I don't know about _you_, but I know what I want to eat…" He let the sentence trail off suggestively. Her face flamed again, white-hot desire running through her as the sight of Bruce's head between her legs flashed in her mind again. Blushing dangerously, she whirled around to grab the plate of pancakes. Grabbing a bottle syrup and a fork, she stuck her tongue out at him and carted it away from him.

"If you're going to be _that _way, then I'll just have the pancakes all to myself." Jane waltzed away into the dining room, Bruce coming after her quickly. As she set the platter and things down on the glass table, she yelped as his arms wrapped around her waist, tugging him towards her. "Bruce!"

He growled in her ear. She maneuvered her torso to the side, jammed her elbow into his stomach, and shimmied out of his grip. Running, she skid around the table so that she was a good distance away. Bruce was clutching his stomach where she jabbed into him, coughing a little to her delight. "Don't do that. We already know I can beat your ass."

"I demand a rematch on that." He said, standing straight again, but still rubbing the tender, reddening area that blossomed on his side. "I don't think that your little seduction technique will work this time."

"Oh really?" Jane challenged, moving forward slowly and giving him a smile. Bruce gave her a guarded expression, crossing his arms firmly across his chest as he expected her to lash out at him somehow. Her hand trailing against the glass table, Jane kept her eyes squarely on his. She stood in front of him now, but reached for the syrup instead of him. Uncapping it, she tipped it upside down, allowing the thick liquid to cover her index finger a little. She put the bottle back down on the table, eyes flickering up to look at Bruce's now curious ones.

Teasingly, she lifted the syrup-covered finger to her lips. She licked up the length, curling her tongue back into her mouth as she kept her eyes on him. _His _gaze, however, was on her lips now as she licked them. She ran her tongue up the other side of her finger before slowly wrapping her lips around it and sucking it into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks as she got the syrup off of it. Moaning a little, she closed her eyes, and ever so slowly, slipped her finger out of her mouth. It was free of any syrup, and once her hand dropped down back to her side, she licked her lips and opened her eyes.

Bruce's gaze was glazed over, the familiar look of pure, wanton lust in them. Jane smiled, stepping closer to him. "I beg to differ." She whispered into his ear, brushing her lips against his jawbone. Then, she kneed him in the crotch. Jane didn't hit him as hard as she could, not wanting to cause any permanent damage or anything to the body part that she had become quite fond of recently. Stepping back, she grabbed the plate of pancakes, the syrup, and the fork.

He was doubled over, clutching his groin as he coughed heartily, breath sputtering. Jane smirked and walked around him towards the living room. "I'll take that rematch anytime, Bruce."

* * *

**So, uh, how was it? Leave me a review so I know how to make it...better, I guess? for next time. I'm not used to writing smut scenes, and wasn't planning on one happening till later. But it was just like BAM. And it felt right in the story to me. I tend to go with whatever flows out, and this is the product of my writing process lol. **

**Thank you to those who reviewed/favorited/followed! You guys are AWESOME :D**

**So last night I dreamed that I helped Batman defuse a bomb in Wal-Mart. Woke up wishing that Bruce Wayne would reward me. ;) Anyone else feel this way?**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So the smut scene was well received :) Glad you guys liked it - I was nervous as hell posting that! Thank you to all who review/favorite/follow. You make everything so exciting and make me want to push all these chapters out. Hit a snag on Chapter 10, but hopefully I'll fix it soon and move on. Wish me luck and keep those oh-so-kind words coming! :D Stay awesome.**

* * *

Jane stretched her arms high over her head. They were stiff, sore from her fight with Bruce the day before, and for some reason the area around her scar hurt a little. Probably because she had overused it yesterday with the physical activities before _and _after her little, uh, brawl with him. A smirk on her lips, she giggled girly to herself before she stopped. Fuck she had to get her head together. Shaking her head, she brushed her fingers through her hair, humming to herself as she walked up the steps leading to Gordon's house. Bruce had offered to go with her this time, but she had refused. She was going to have a hard time keeping her hands off of him now that she knew how fucking amazing he felt, and she couldn't think about jumping him when she was in Gordon's presence. An exhibitionist she was _not _and even the idea made her a little sick to her stomach.

Knocking on the screen door, she stepped back. It was weird not having to look around to check, the feeling reminding her of the time she had come to see Gordon and his family right after Falcone had been imprisoned. Except that time it had been raining and now it was sunny. She looked up, taking in a deep breath as she heard footsteps on the other side of the door. Earlier she had texted him and told him that she was coming over to see him. Jane could have told him what she needed to talk to him about, but she figured that what they were going to discuss might be better face-to-face. She had yet to contact Maroni again even though she knew her answer – and to be honest, he probably knew it as well. But she wanted to go over it with Gordon first. Not only did she want to make sure their prior agreement would still be in fact, but also to inform him that she would be working with Maroni in the first place. It wouldn't be smart to do something if Gordon was informed first.

The door opened, Gordon standing on the opposite side of the screen door. He looked like he always did: graying hair with a slowly receding hairline, his thinly rimmed glasses a little crooked on his face, and his normal attire of brown overcoat and a green polo with slacks. "Come in, Jane." Gordon said, lifting a hand to straighten his glasses as he stepped to the side to allow her room to enter. "The kids went to Barbara's mother's house for the day, I'm afraid. Shame, Jimmy's been asking about you."

Jane chuckled as she stepped through the door, already walking to the living room like she normally did. "I'll just have to come some other time to see him again. It's weird to say it, but I miss the little tyke too. He's quite…attachable."

"So is this a social visit again or is there something you wish to discuss?"

Plopping down into a sofa, she replied with an air of dismissal, "Maroni called me. He wants me to join the family again. Apparently, he's taken over now that Falcone's in jail. They haven't figured out my involvement with you which is _good_ and I'm pretty sure that I can slip back into routine easily."

He frowned before slowly lowering himself into the plush chair across from her. Rubbing a hand over his forehead, he crinkled his brow in thought momentarily before dropping his hand and sighing, looking back up at her. "I'll…have to talk to Commissioner Loeb about it. He said that we're not to dally anymore with, er, _criminals_, even those who are on our side of things. Loeb wants to turn over a new leaf with the election of the new District Attorney Harvey Dent. I don't know if he'll be willing to reestablish the connection and offer you the same things as before now that the mobs are trying to recoup from Falcone."

"But if I get you Maroni then that's _half _of Gotham's problems right there. Falcone's family is still the largest mob around, still the most powerful even though he isn't there. If you can get Maroni, then you can get _anyone_ else. And if I can gain Maroni's trust like I did Falcone – which shouldn't take nearly as long – I can probably get you all the other mobs as well. For Loeb to not see how beneficial this would be for both his record and for the good of Gotham would be fucking stupid."

"I agree wholeheartedly with you, Jane. I just don't know if Loeb would. He's calling the shots now, becoming more involved with things. Dent is trying to turn the city around and Loeb is joining him, going the purely lawful route this time."

"Lawful?" Jane's voice rose a little. "_Lawful_? In fucking Gotham City?" She laughed humorlessly, lying back on the sofa. "Good luck with _that_. Gotham will never be lawful until the entire mob is wiped out. They have too much power, too many politicians and cops in their pocket, and too much control over everything that goes on."

Gordon held his hands out as if to say _it's not me_. "To be honest, Jane, Dent's, the mayor's, and Loeb's attempts at trying to turn this city around are admirable."

"Admirable? Yes. Realistic? No."

"At least something's happening. We can't run off this high we got from bagging Falcone for much longer. People want results –"

"I can get you the damn results you want! Just like I did last time! Falcone would still be on the streets if it weren't for the Batman and me. One would think Loeb would take that into consideration and be thankful for the help he's getting instead of cutting _me _off and trying to hunt Batman down. Seems to me that Loeb isn't too worried about cleaning up Gotham at all."

"He's just concerned with being too involved with criminal activity."

"Too involved? In a town like this you _have_ to be involved with criminals. It's the only way you can ever hope to stay one step ahead of them. Right now, Maroni's twenty steps ahead. He has agents in your office telling him every little thing that you and Loeb and Dent are trying to do while you have nothing."

"I'm sorry; Jane, but I can't help you with this. You'll have to talk to Loeb about it and see what will happen." Gordon said sadly, his eyes regretful. Jane knew that this wasn't his fault – he was just obeying orders and relaying information. But still. Fuck, people in this town were damn idiots. Growling furiously, she pushed her fingers through her loose hair, fisting it a little as she clenched her jaw. What the fuck did Loeb think he was going to do with his little corrupted task force? After spending years risking her life and safety, this was the thanks she got. It was the same with Bruce too. Though he donned a mask, he did more to help the citizens of Gotham than anyone had before and politicians were in an uproar only because he was doing a better fucking job than they were. Their hands were too busy digging into Maroni's and other mob's pockets searching for loose change.

Pathetic. That was what this town's law system was. Fuck the corrupt law and fuck Loeb. Things would be different if the politicians were actually doing something to help Gotham, but that was the thing that infuriated her so – they _weren't_. None of their damn little policies worked. All 'lawful' consisted of was bureaucratic red tape and people who were too greedy to ever do a bit of good. It more than pissed her off, her blood pulsing and boiling as she struggled to maintain a hold on her temper. Why did people have to be so fucking stupid? She wasn't trying to tear Gotham down or take control; she was just trying to get shit done in this town. That's all. She didn't ask for money, didn't ask for power, and didn't ask for anything but protection when it came to the end. A little leeway with the law as well if she needed it. When she was risking her life to help them, that little bit didn't amount to a whole lot.

Huffing, Jane stood, striding towards the door quickly. Gordon rose as well, eyes widening as he followed her. She flung the screen open and stormed outside; fuming so much that even the cold air didn't chill her to the bone like it normally did. "Jane? Jane? Where are you going?" He called after her eagerly as she raised her hand to hail a cab. One caught sight of her and began to pull up to the curb next beside her. Turning around, she faced Gordon, eyeing him bitterly even though he wasn't the source of her anger.

"I'm going to go have a little _chat_ with Loeb." She hissed between her teeth. Pivoting back to the cab, Jane opened the cab door and slid in, slamming it shut. She was just about to give directions when suddenly Gordon opened the door as well, jumping in. Curiously, she gave him a look.

"I'm afraid you're going to kill him if I'm not there to stop you."

"What-What is the meaning of this?" Commissioner Loeb demanded as Jane threw open the door to his office, storming inside as a petite secretary chased after her. Jane eyed him angrily, going straight to the front of his desk and crossing her arms over her chest, glaring down at him with all that she had. "Who are you?" The man's eyes went to Gordon standing awkwardly in the doorway, looking at the scene with a timid expression.

"Hi, Commissioner." Jane spat and Loeb's eyes slid back to her. "I'm Jane. You know, the one who fucking got you this fancy new office and title." Giving him a fake smile, she jerked her arm out of the secretary's grasp, giving her a fierce glance. "Would you fucking _leave_? I'm already in here! You're certainly not going to get me out."

"Commissioner Loeb, I'm sorry, she just walked in-"

"No shit, Sherlock! I think he sees that already. Now why don't you be a good little Gothamite and _mind your own damn business_." Her words were filled with so much distaste that the woman actually flinched a little, shooting Loeb a quick frantic gaze as Jane stared her down. "It's my right to talk to my Commissioner dammit, and that's what I'm here to do."

"Jane, calm down," Gordon eased, stepping closer to her. Jane whirled her head around, narrowing her eyes at the Lieutenant.

"Don't tell me to calm down Gordon. I'm perfectly fine."

"Gordon, who is this?" Loeb rose from his chair. He put his hands on the desk, leaning forward and narrowed his eyes at the woman in front of him as if trying to recognize her from something. "Why are you here with her? What's going on?"

"I'm not speaking until the chick leaves." Jane pointed to the annoying secretary. Without waiting for another word, the woman scuttled out hurriedly, finally leaving Jane alone. Fuck the woman had been irritating. "We finally meet, Loeb. I'm the one – well, kind of – who handed you Falcone on a silver platter. You know? The chick who managed to actually help out Gotham for the past ten years."

Loeb's brown eyes narrowed at her tone. "So you were the rat."

"Rat? I guess you could say that. Though this _rat_ is the only thing that kept your sorry ass from getting fired or whatever it is that you idiots do up here." Jane leaned over his desk, eyeing him strongly as she sneered. "I came to tell you that Maroni is in charge of the Falcone family. Just in case you didn't fucking know because you don't have a friend in the mob anymore. I also came to tell you that he asked me to come back."

"What does that have anything to do with you storming into my office and threatening my secretary?"

"I didn't _threaten _her. No wonder why Gotham's a shithole. You can't even tell what a threat is." She shook her head and stood back up straight, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm going back into the family. I stop by and tell Gordon about reinstating our agreement that we've had for the past fucking ten years and he says that you won't accept it. Now, I'm just a simple citizen, and naturally I have to question my politicians – why would someone hell bent on protecting Gotham throw away his one and only shot at bringing the mobs down?"

Loeb ran his hands over his finely pressed suit, tilting his chin up proudly, and giving her a look of disdain. "We don't deal with the likes of you anymore."

"The likes of _me_?" Jane hissed. The sharp pain of her nails digging into her skin snapped her out of a near anger-induced violent rage and she sucked in a deep breath. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Now, now, let's calm down." Gordon piped from the back, walking to place a calming hand on Jane's shoulder. She shrugged it off and leaned towards Loeb, getting back into his face again as she glowered him down. How fucking _dare_ he. Who did he think he was? He was no better than she. No office, fancy suit, or nice house made him any shape or form a better person than she. She wasn't the one that was blinded by stupidity and pride.

"You're a fucking idiot, Loeb." She sneered at him, and she forgot that she was trying to calm down when she lurched forward, bent on beating him into submission for degrading her so. Gordon was quick to haul her back, locking her arms to her sides with his arms around her elbows, hauling her away from the desk. "How dare you! How fucking dare you! I'm not the one who used to accept bribes from Falcone."

"No, you only worked for him for ten years."

"_Fuck you Loeb_. Fuck you. You don't know anything about me so don't act like you do."

"You have been forgiven for your past transgression, Ms. Jane, but this office will no longer grant you amnesty from now on. If you do anything to break the law or become involved with the law, you will be arrested and you will serve your time. You will be punished just like the rest." Loeb replied sternly, sitting down into his seat again. Jane scowled.

"How much blood will you allow to be spilt before you finally realize that you sometimes have to break the law to get the lawbreakers? You can't touch Maroni with your so called _police force _when they're blinded by money signs and prostitutes. You will never get anything and they will grow back in strength. Even with Falcone gone, nothing will change. Any inch that you've managed to gain will be gone instantly."

"And we will deal with that when the time comes. However, we will not resort to such _desperate _measures again. Now that the mayor and the district attorney are working together to bring down the mob, I can assure you that Maroni and his men will be taken care of."

"Yeah right! More than half the men who swear to protect this city have their hands in the mob's pockets. You know that and yet you still won't do a damn thing to help. For years I did nothing but tell you what Falcone was planning and you _still_ fucking failed to get him! What makes you think it'll be so easy this time? Because of Batman? Is that why? Are you putting your faith in him and hope he'll catch him so you don't have to do any dirty work?"

Loeb's face turned harder, angrier. "We will catch that lunatic as well and we will do it without your _help_. Gordon, get her out of here."

Jane pushed herself off of Gordon. Stomping towards Loeb, she pointed at his chest, glaring at him vehemently while grimacing. "You're making a big fucking mistake, Loeb."

"Get out of my office before I have you arrested." Jane clenched her jaw tightly, refusing to back down from the battle between them. She was furious, pissed beyond relief. Her vision was running red. Tunneling in on Loeb, she wanted to just beat some fucking sense into him. Beat him to a damn pulp for being so prideful and arrogant. Did he really think he was going to come out on top? He wasn't even willing to do whatever it took to go after the mob. He was content to point fingers and hurt the ones who were trying to help.

Not especially wanting to go to jail, Jane turned sharply on her heel. She brushed past Gordon who stumbled as her shoulder collided with his, but she kept pace until she was out of the suffocating office. Loeb was an ass. A big one. She didn't need his help, dammit.

Jane could do this on her own.

Still fuming over the confrontation with Loeb, she slammed the door to Bruce's penthouse a bit harder than she meant to. Not really giving a shit, she shrugged it off and stormed over to her room much like a teenager who had gotten into an argument with her parents. Bruce was sitting on the couch watching the television, his head turning to see her slam her bedroom door as well. Curious, he muted the news that was playing, and was slightly amused to hear the long stream of violent curses coming from the room.

"_Stupid motherfucker_," Jane hissed to herself through gritted teeth, yanking her clothes off and throwing them around the room. She needed a bath. Something to calm her down so that she could think again. "I'll show _him_. Let's see whose damn plan works out the best. I'll have Maroni in Gordon's hands before Loeb can even get together a fucking task force that's fucking dedicated to nabbing him. Hell, I'll be a damn grandmother by the time Maroni's in jail if Loeb's in charge of it. After ten damn years he can't get Falcone with me fucking spoon-feeding him information and he thinks he can get Maroni on his own? Well, good luck with that Commissioner! Fucking _ass_."

The door opened behind her, but she was too caught up in rant to acknowledge Bruce stepping in. "Who the fuck does he think he is? What in hell makes him think that he's better than me? Fucking brainless politician." She half-screamed, half-huffed in annoyance before stalking to the bathroom, immediately turning the knobs and stepping into the steaming hot shower. Amused, Bruce followed her into the room, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest and one ankle over the other. He could see her lithe form through the grainy surface of the shower.

"I take it that the meeting with Loeb went well?" He commented. Jane shrieked, not knowing that he was in here and opened the shower door, sticking her head out to glare viciously at him.

"It went _perfect_." She rolled her eyes and slammed the glass shut, the door rattling on the metal frame. "Loeb's probably the most ungrateful and arrogant asshole that I've ever had the fucking _pleasure _of meeting. The guy wonders why nothing happened on the streets until you came along. That fucker doesn't have a _clue_; he doesn't know shit about how the mob works."

"Calm down a tad there, Jane." Bruce chuckled.

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down," she growled, scratching her nails into her scalp as she rubbed in shampoo. A bit of it slid down her forehead into her eye. Cursing more, she quickly doused her hands with water and then wiped at her lid. Blinking, she opened her eyes. Fuck. Could the day get any worse? Jane rinsed out her hair, then washed the soap off her body. Shutting off the water, she opened the door partway and stuck her hand out. "Give me a towel, please."

"Maybe I don't _want_ you to cover up."

"Give me a damn towel." A beat later, a fuzzy white one was in her hands and she slid it between the doors, quickly drying off her body as best she could before wrapping herself in it and stepping out of the shower. Bruce looked more than amused at her anger. He still stood at the doorway in his relaxed position, watching as she gave him a scowl before going over to the mirror. She yanked the brush through her hair, not even wincing as some of the strands were torn from her scalp.

"Why is it that politicians are so fucking stupid?" She asked to no one in particular. "I mean, here I am, offering my fucking help and he shoves me off as if I really am a damn criminal." Slamming the brush down on the vanity, Jane whirled around to face Bruce. "Am I a criminal? I mean, fuck, I know I've done crazy shit before but I figured that everything balanced out in the end."

Bruce stepped towards her. Reaching behind her, Jane turned her head to see him pick up the brush that lie on the countertop. He gingerly touched her shoulders and she slowly turned back to facing the mirror. Bruce then ran the brush through her hair very gently, sweeping the long strands across her back so that they almost tickled her. "You're no more a criminal than I am," he whispered to her. The scowl disappeared from her face – Bruce's attempts at calming her down working wonderfully. She took in a deep breath as her heartbeat returned to normal, her eyes watching Bruce's. He was watching his strokes with the brush, appearing intent on her hair, and she resisted the urge to laugh. Bruce Wayne, the billionaire and vigilante was actually brushing her hair soothingly.

"That isn't very reassuring, Bruce." She said, her voice dropping a few octaves. "You have your own damn police task force devoted to hunting you down."

"And so will you if you join Maroni again." Bruce swiped the front part of her hair backwards out of her face. Giving her a fleeting glance in the mirror, he continued: "In the end, though, we're doing it for the greater good. Unlike the cops and politicians, we are not held back by laws, but by our own code. We do more good than harm, and in the end, do what needs to be done. By risking both our lives and our freedom, we give Gotham so much more than any of them can give. Their laws, their red tape, and their corruption hold them back from the goals that we achieve. Right or wrong – it doesn't really matter, does it? We get the job done while shedding our own blood more than shedding our enemies'. We protect those that need protecting and thwart the plans of those who have malicious intents." He met her eyes this time, dropping his hands to the curve of her shoulders. "That's why they hate us."

She cocked an eyebrow at him, one corner of her mouth lifting up. "Epic little speech you had there."

He shrugged his shoulders. "I've been preparing it for some time." Smiling, he laughed and put the brush down on the sink. "It's true, though, if you think about it." Jane turned back to face him and saw conviction in his eyes. He believed what he said wholeheartedly, and so did she. Though she had already come to the conclusion earlier, it was nice to know that someone else felt the same. "The only thing we can do is keep doing what we do best and not get caught. Shouldn't be too hard, now that we have each other to watch our backs."

"It's fucked up how easily you manipulate me." She shook her head at him. Walking past him, she went into the bedroom over to the bureau. Jane dropped the towel and stepped into a pair of underwear and jogging pants before buttoning a white button-down.

"Is that _my_ shirt?" He asked as she turned to face him. Jane looked down at it, holding up the hem a little as she scrutinized it.

"Looks like it." Giving him a mischievous grin, she said, "thanks for letting me wear it."

"Hmm…" he put his hand on his chin, shuffling towards her as his eyes roamed over her body. Stopping in front of her, he lifted those fucking brown eyes to her, a glint of playfulness in them. "I don't remember saying that you could wear it."

"Looks like I am. What are you going to do about it?"

He quirked an eyebrow, lowering the hand on his chin to the collar of _his_ white dress shirt. His fingers played against the folds, feeling the stiff starch that Alfred used. Jane's breath hitched in her throat as he ran a finger across it, and then ever so slowly trailed it down the buttons until his hand dropped by his side. _Please_ do something about it, she mused, her eyes looking up at him hopefully. She wanted him to. Do something, dammit. "Nothing," he said, catching her off guard. She blinked in bewilderment. What the fuck? "It looks quite nice on you." Turning on his heel, he strode out of the room. He shoved his hands into his pockets, whistling some tune that she didn't know as he went. Narrowing her eyes at him, she huffed, her arms folding across her chest. Fucking tease.

Jane woke up in Bruce's bed, the sheets a tangled mess around her. Peeking her head up off the pillows, she saw that she was in it alone. Not thinking anything of it, she rolled over onto her back, pushing her hair off of her forehead. She and Bruce hadn't had sex last night. He had merely laid with her until she drifted off to sleep sometime around ten – seriously, what was she? Fucking ten years old? – and then left to do his vigilante duties. She hadn't expected him to be there when she woke, nor were her feelings hurt. Any other woman might be a little pissed at waking up alone, but it barely fazed her. Jane wasn't living in some fantasy world, suddenly expecting Bruce to give up his night life for her. No, and nor would she ask him to. Just like he wouldn't do it to her now, she wouldn't dare infringe on that part of his life. It defined him too much. Bruce had been destined to do it, and pulling him away from it would be like tearing his soul in half.

Shifting over, she grabbed his pillow and pulled it close to her. It was cold under her arm, but she formed her body around it nonetheless. Taking in a deep breath, she inhaled in his cologne and sighed contently, closing her eyes. Sooner or later it would be her that was out on the streets with him. Well, technically not _with_ him. Out on the streets the same though. She took in a deep breath again. Bruce was just comforting all the way around. Even his fucking _smell _calmed her. Jeeze she was pathetic.

No, not pathetic. Jane was falling in love.

Love.

Her eyes flew open, body stiffening as she thought of the word. Love? Was she really falling in love? Biting the inside of her cheek, Jane sat up, sliding back on the bed until she was sitting up against the headboard. Love…that was a tricky thing. One that she, once again, had absolutely nothing to go by. Maybe she wasn't falling in love. Maybe Bruce was just a fling. A guy that would eventually grow apart from her and they would go their separate ways without fear of breaking each other's hearts. She would go back to her life and he would go back to his. Bruce would get married to some rich, gorgeous socialite and Jane would…probably have a hundred fucking cats or something. Love? No. No, it couldn't be that. She couldn't be falling in love. Not with Bruce. Surely not…

Fuck. Jane scrambled out of the sheets, standing on the floor beside the bed and biting her lip in nothing but her underwear and Bruce's shirt. She didn't want to fall in love – didn't need to. Bruce would never love her back…he couldn't…neither of them could. What kind of life would they have? She wasn't going to give up fighting and neither was he. They both had responsibilities to look after. Responsibilities that would be horribly hindered by the fact that they had grown to care for one another. She would do nothing but distract him from what he needed to do. If his time was spent with her like it was last night, every night, crime would come back into Gotham just like before. Their love would tear Gotham apart in the end, ruining any ground that they had managed to gain.

Jane padded barefoot to the bedroom door, opening it and going back to her room. She couldn't think with Bruce's smell everywhere in that room. She knew what she had to do – she had to stop feeling for Bruce. As she had determined, he couldn't love someone like her back. Even if he did love her, it wouldn't be something beautiful and magical. It would only bring about destruction. Jane wasn't going to be responsible for that. She refused to be.

When she opened her bedroom door, though, memories of the night before flooded her mind. Bruce being so kind and gentle with her, satisfying both his and her desires. He had been wonderful to her and made her _feel_ beautiful and safe. She never felt as secure as she did in those moments when she was in his arms. There, she had her haven. Her sanctuary.

Her paradise.

Jane closed the door firmly, not able to bring herself to revisit those images and feelings. It would do nothing to help her try to forget about her feelings she felt for Bruce. They were intensely alien though she had felt them before. The night of Al Ghul's attack, Jane realized that she _could _love Bruce. That she could actually care for someone enough that she was willing do anything to have those affections returned to her. But then she had been frightened at the prospect of simply acknowledging that she was beginning to _care_ for him. Now she was faced with the reality that she more than cared for him – she was _falling in love _with him. Continuing to bite the inside of her cheek, she instead went to the couch. She was far too past sleeping. Her mind was wide awake, running through her thoughts as she struggled to suppress them.

Figuring some mindless television would help, Jane reached for the remote on the coffee table in front of her. She flipped the television on, quickly surfing through the channels. Speedily, she bypassed the news channels. Batman would more than likely be the subject of the night's reports as he always was, and she didn't think seeing him again would help her when she was trying to rid her mind of him at the moment. Finally, she found a comedy and dropped the remote onto the cushion beside her. Situating, she stretched her long legs out in front, crossing her ankles as she rested her feet on the table. Alfred would probably be furious to see her lounging about like this, but he was staying in the nicer penthouse for the moment, getting it ready for Bruce to move into next week.

Jane somehow fell asleep later on, waking up to Bruce winding a strand of her hair around his finger. He was dressed in a sharply cut suit, appearing every bit as billionaire and playboy as he could with the lopsided half-smile and the amused glint in his eyes. Yawning, Jane pushed his hand away. She sat up, rubbing her bleary eyes before fixing her shirt to cover her underwear again. "Morning, sleepyhead." Bruce said, and Jane glared at him bitterly. Fuck him for waking her up.

"Shut up, Wayne." She grumbled. Pushing herself off of the couch, she went to her bedroom. She hadn't forgotten about her thoughts earlier, and Bruce's fucking gorgeousness was damn distracting in her attempt to push off her feelings for him. Musing with her hair, Jane went directly to the bureau, immediately digging for a pair of jeans and a wife beater tank top. She slipped on the skinny blue jeans first, then worked at the buttons of Bruce's shirt. Letting it fall of her shoulders, she turned her back to Bruce and pulled the tank over her head. She bent down and gathered the clothes in her hand.

"Someone's not a morning person," Bruce noted, walking over to sit on her bed. Jane ignored him, going over to the closet and grabbing her duffle bag. When she had moved in with Bruce a month ago, she had packed with her a few changes of clothes. Now, she was planning on going back to her own house. For reasons that were plainly obvious. Bruce, however, looked that the bag curiously in her hands as she walked past him back towards the dresser. "What are you doing?"

"Packing." She said, opening a few drawers and then grabbing the meager jeans, shirts, underwear, socks, and bras that had been hers. She left behind the clothes he had bought for her, shutting them back in the drawers as she shoved her belongings into the bag. "I said before that I'm not going to live off of you, Bruce, and I don't plan on it. Maroni's going to be pretty fucking suspicious if I'm not living in my own apartment."

Bruce stood from the bed and she heard him start towards her. He bent down beside her, grasping her hands in order to stop her from shoving in a few more shirts. Jane looked up at him before tugging her wrists back towards her. He kept his grip tight, though, and she wasn't able to slide them out of his grasp. Eyeing her, he studied her for signs that she was lying. Which she kind of _wasn't_, honestly. Maroni would question her if she didn't move back into her apartment. He probably had people watching it now.

"Why are you leaving, Jane?" He asked her calmly. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying. I need to go back to my own house. You know, take care of myself for a while. My shoulder has completely healed and I'm all good now. If I can beat you in a fight, I can beat most of anyone."

"Well, I hope you don't use those same tactics on others." He said, dropping her wrists. Jane glared at him, and pushed the wadded up shirt violently into the bag.

"What's that supposed to mean, hmm? Do you think I'm going to throw myself at everyone now or something?"

"Not at all. I was only saying…." He trailed off and eyed her a bit more suspiciously. "Why are you acting this way? Why are you trying to pick a fight."

Jane sighed and zipped the duffel bag closed. "I'm not trying to pick a fight. I just need to be on my own for a bit. You know, clear my head about some things and get prepared to go back to Maroni." Jane stood and went to where her shoes were on the floor beside the bed. She slipped on the combat boots before bending down and tying the black laces. "It's hard to explain. I just need to do this, and I don't expect you to understand or anything."

"I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on."

"Fuck Bruce, there's _nothing _going on!" She shouted exasperatedly, standing up and putting her hands on her hips. "I just want to go _home _with _my _things that _I _paid for _myself_."

"Why are you worried about money? I told you that you weren't a burden. Why can't you believe that?" Bruce stood and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes were gentle though his tone and body language were stern. Fuck he was too perceptive for his own good.

"I just…I need to go home." She shook her head. "It's a personal thing, okay?" Going to the bathroom, she grabbed her make-up bag and brush. Quickly, she threw them onto the bed then turned back around. Putting her hair into a haphazard ponytail, she tied it up and grabbed her leather jacket from the bedpost, quickly pulling it on while avoiding Bruce's eyes. Finally ready, she grabbed the stuff and her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. "See you later Bruce." She said with one last glance over her shoulder, walking out of the room.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hi everyone :) Thank you to those who have reviewed/favorited/followed. Love you! I will get around to replying to reviews today that were posted on this chapter and the last. I hate not replying to them, but school is super busy at the moment and I haven't even really sat down and wrote out Chapter 11 yet. I will be doing that today so, YAY! I have a very interesting surprise for you all about 'Cracked' that I think you'll like. But I'm not saying what it is ;) **

**Leave me love and stay awesome!**

Her apartment had, thankfully, gone untouched in her prolonged absence. No one had broken in or stolen anything, probably still under the assumption she still had connections with the mob. That little fact and suspicion was enough to cause most people to look down if she met their eye, much less break into her apartment and steal her things. Not when you had someone as powerful as Maroni on your side. Mob life did come with perks. Probably more than Loeb could guarantee. Shaking her head, she pushed the man out of her mind for now. She would just get all fucking pissed off and everything again. Now that she didn't have Bruce around to calm her down whenever she needed it, she needed to watch her anger. If she got too pissed there was no telling what sort of stupid shit she would do. Jane was smart, but sometimes things could get out of hand. Especially if her head wasn't on straight or something.

Throwing her stuffed duffle bag onto the bed, she put her hands on her hips and looked around the room for the first time in months. Even though she had lived a life of luxury for a while, her apartment still didn't really strike her as unsafe, nasty, disgusting. Things that a rich bitch might think. To Jane, yeah, it could use a bit of cleaning. Thanks to Alfred's insistence on keeping a house that would rival Mr. Clean's, Jane had been used to things being in certain places, everything spick-and-span without a bit of dust on anything. Not only was there a need for dusting, but she also had piles of clothes in around her bureau from where she had rampaged through the dressers in an attempt to pack as quickly as possible. Her bed was wrinkled, not really made up because quite frankly she didn't give a fuck whether or not she went to bed in a made-up one or not. A bed was a bed was a bed, no matter how the sheets were arranged. She would just get fucking tangled up in them anyway. Why waste the minute to fix it?

Jane ran a hand over her face, suddenly feeling a little exhausted for no apparent reason. She felt sort of guilty for leaving Bruce like that, trying to pick a fight in order to justify her moving out without telling him the exact reasons behind her act. Normally she didn't feel the need to put out a motivation, instead just taking the opportunity and not giving a shit what anyone thought about it. But with Bruce…for some reason, she felt like she owed him something. He had been nothing but kind to her, though, and she tried to start a petty argument in order to both push him away and move out. Stupid? Childish? Yes. _Immensely_ so. And she felt more than guilty and a bit ridiculous about that. There was nothing she could do about it now though, and at the time it seemed like a pretty basic idea. Isn't that what couples did? Make fights?

_Fuck_ she couldn't think that way. She had to get herself together. Referring to her and Bruce as a "couple" was definitely not going to help her little situation out at all. In fact, it would only make things worse. Toying with the notion that the two of them could be something more than one-time lovers was dangerous at the moment when she was trying to put as much distance between them. As she had come to the conclusion the night before, they would both only prove to be major distractions for the responsibilities and mantles they had donned for Gotham. Only bad things could come of it. Best to stop things right now than to continue on and wait until they both became far too attached to one another.

Jane rolled her shoulders back and shook out her body, desperate to calm down. She needed to stop thinking about that. It wasn't going to do her any good. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, momentarily distracting her and she reached into it. Gordon. Curious, she flipped it open. "Hello?" She knew that it the call couldn't be about Loeb. That man would never change his mind about anything. After only having face-to-face contact with him for a few minutes she came to the conclusion that he was as bull-headed as she first believed.

"Jane, it's Gordon." No shit. "I'm up here at the hospital Rebecca is in and I've been told that she's able to go home now. The doctors think that she's stable enough now to, you know, _assimilate _into normal life. We don't have anyone to contact though, and I don't think that she wants to stay in the hospital for much longer."

"She can stay here." Jane said hastily, not even giving it a moment's thought. Rebecca needed a place to stay, and Jane knew – in a way – what the young girl was feeling. It wasn't too much to ask. Plus, Jane was pretty sure that was the reason Gordon called. He knew that she would accept Rebecca into her apartment. He knew her well for one who didn't talk to her much. "I don't have much to offer, but yes, she can definitely come stay with me. I'll look after her."

Gordon sighed in relief on the other end. Did he really think she would turn him down on something like this? He knew how much she had worried about Rebecca and how concerned she had been for the young woman's well-being when she was in the hospital. "Thank you, Jane. I hope she won't be a burden or anything, but I think it would be good for her to get out somewhere instead of being cooped up in the hospital room. It's only temporary. We will be continually searching through files and paperwork until we can find someone to contact."

"I don't think she has any family around. I talked to her about it and she didn't give any names. I can ask her again though, once she warms up to me somehow. But don't worry about it. I'll gladly take care of her. Do I need to come pick her up at the hospital or is she coming here?"

"We're going to get her a taxi and send her over there. Your address is still the same, right?"

"Yeah. I'll be waiting for her. What time is she getting out? I need to know when I can expect her to be here."

"Maybe an hour? Or earlier, I don't really know for sure. I'll send you a text whenever she leaves from here. It shouldn't be too long from now." Through the phone, she heard him murmuring something to someone else, probably another cop, and she waited patiently for him to return back to their conversation. "Sorry about that. I can't thank you enough, Jane."

"It's no problem. See you later, Gordon." She closed the phone and slid it back into her pocket. Well, at least now she wouldn't be alone. Fuck she had to clean the house. Damn.

The tiny apartment was relatively cleaner when Jane got the text that Rebecca had left the hospital. It had only been about an hour, and Jane had to admit that as she looked around the apartment that it had never looked cleaner. A bit proud, she went back into her bedroom, getting on her hands and knees at the foot of the bed. Lifting the sheet, she peeked underneath it. Reaching her arm into the darkness, she felt around for the spare sheets that she had folded and shoved underneath there. When she finally grabbed them, she pulled them out. Jane stacked them to the side and then stuck her hand back through to find a few blankets that she rarely used. The one measly blanket that she had on the couch wasn't going to do shit blocking out the cold night. Her heater was mostly fucked, the consequence of her cheap place.

Gathering her pile into her hands, she jumped up, walking back into the living room before tossing the mass onto the couch. Damn. If there was one thing she hated more than cleaning her apartment it was making beds up. With a sigh, Jane unraveled the sheets, making the couch up much like a bed. She wanted it to be as comfortable as possible for Rebecca. She would offer her bed for the night but…Jane wanted the room to herself. She also didn't think that Rebecca would take kindly to the idea of taking her bedroom either.

When she glanced back down at the front screen of the phone, she saw that Rebecca's cab should be pulling up at any moment. Jane grabbed her keys off of the kitchen counter and tucked them into her pocket before leaving the apartment, locking the door. She pounded down the stairs, not trusting the elevator enough to not completely go haywire if she took it. In a building as hold and rusty as this, it was better to not trust something like that. She fixed the sleeve of her black leather jacket, tugging it down to cover more of her hand so that she wouldn't be swamped with germs as she placed her hand on the door handle, pulling it open briskly before stepping into the cold mid-afternoon air. The sun wasn't shining, the sky and mood a dull, dismal gray.

Jane moved to the side of the door, kicking up a foot to rest against the front of the concrete building before leaning her back onto it in a comfortable position. Crossing her arms over her chest, a few strands of her hair that escaped from its hold in her high ponytail wisped across her face annoyingly. Jane tucked them back into position behind her ears, eyes scanning the busy sidewalk and streets. People were walking briskly around her, heads down as normal so they wouldn't attract attention. A few cabs were mingled in with older model, rusted cars on the street itself, but none pulled up to the curb in front of her.

A hot dog vendor barked at people who walked past, gaining only a few customers as smoke came from the tiny grill built into his stand. Jane watched him for a moment, but eventually became disinterested once more, her consciousness going back to the people walking the streets. A month ago these people had tried to tear each other apart under the influence of Crane's drugs. Now, one would never know that a massacre nearly took place. Everyone seemed normal. Afraid. Tense. Skeptic. But normal enough for the Narrows. _That _was fucking pathetic. The mob literally owned every soul in this part of town – though they were quickly gaining control of some of the normal citizens in the upper sides – but Loeb was still too blind to see he was fighting a losing war. Especially if he didn't embrace the help people like Bruce and Jane were willing to give him.

Her thoughts were torn free as a cab parked right in front of her. Waiting a few moments, Jane kept her position on the building. The backdoor opened, Rebecca stepping out of the car before turning to close it. Jane pushed off the building, striding towards the black girl who still faced the taxi, body tensed as if she was prepared to jump back into the cab. Placing a hand on the girl's shoulder tentatively, Rebecca turned her head to face her, and Jane offered her a warm smile. "Hi, Rebecca."

"I'm not really sure about this…" Rebecca trailed off. Now, she turned her entire body away from the cab as the driver got out. A white male around his forties, he went around the car to the trunk, and Jane noticed him giving Rebecca a few lingering looks as he got out her one suitcase, setting it on the ground.

"Don't worry about it," she shook her head and then wrapped her arms around her. She only hoped that her hugs could have the same effect as Bruce's did on her. They probably didn't, but oh well. Rebecca looked as if she was about to bolt away. Jane wanted her to know that she was all for Rebecca coming to live with her for a little while. "Come on, let's get your stuff," Jane held her back. Rebecca was small, a head shorter than Jane was. Looking every bit a china doll with full lips and large eyes combined with the silky smooth cocoa skin, Rebecca seemed very child-like. Almost younger than her nineteen or twenty-something years. The cab driver set the suitcase in front of Rebecca, his eyes on her as Rebecca looked away.

"So, uh, if you ever need a ride or something, give me a call." The disgusting man said. Jane narrowed her eyes and placed a hand on Rebecca's shoulder. After dealing with Crane, Jane knew that Rebecca was most definitely not in the mood for much male interaction.

"That'll be all, sir. Thank you for bringing her here."

The man looked at Jane, his eyes hardening as he took in Jane's defensive position, her body angled to slide Rebecca almost behind her. "I'm just trying to be _nice_."

"And you have been. You can leave now." Jane clenched her jaw and crossed her arms over her chest, standing tall. The man was graced with height, but was as scrawny as a crack addict. Rat-like in appearance, he was nothing but an annoyance. One that she wanted _gone_. Rebecca was obviously uncomfortable from the attention and Jane didn't appreciate that one bit.

"Look bitch –"He stepped towards Jane. Jane sailed a right hook into the man's jaw before punching him in the stomach, knocking the man back a few feet as he struggled to catch his breath. He bent over and squeezed his waist with his arms, hacking. Jane grabbed the suitcase. Onlookers had stopped to watch, but Jane ignored them entirely as she latched one hand onto Rebecca's arm, pulling her along with her towards the front door of the apartment building.

Rebecca followed obediently, but Jane knew without even looking that her wide eyes were on the man still hunched over in the middle of the sidewalk. "Stupid fucker," Jane muttered to herself as the two women made their way up the stairs. When they reached Jane's floor, she dropped Rebecca's arm. Using it to dig into her pocket, she withdrew her keys and unlocked the door. She stepped inside first, quickly going to the bedroom to place Rebecca's small and light suitcase by the bureau. Going back into the other room, she saw Rebecca standing awkwardly in the center, eyes scanning over everything.

"It's not much," Jane shrugged her shoulders, plopping down on the couch. The sheets wrinkled underneath her. Damn. She would have to make it up again. Grabbing the remote, she switched on the television and flicked through a few channels absentmindedly. "You can come sit down. I'm not going to attack _you_." She chuckled a little and finally found that news station that she liked to watch. Tossing the remote to the cushion beside her, she kept her eyes on the screen instead of letting them slide to Rebecca. Maybe punching the guy outside hadn't been the best thing to do… Especially if she wanted someone as skittish as Rebecca to warm up to her.

With a sigh, she rubbed her eyes and looked to the girl who still stood in the center of the room, looking out the window. "Look, about that, I didn't mean –"

"No," Rebecca cut her off and regarded Jane. "It was just…I've never had someone to stick up for me like that. I'm still trying to get that." Damn, what kind of life did this girl live? Jane shook her head, dropping her hand back down to her lap.

"Well, I'm going to protect you, okay? You don't need to worry about something like that happening to you again. Not when I'm around. You're safe here."

Rebecca smiled wryly. Moving slowly, she came to sit by Jane. "Funny. I feel safe."

Jane and Rebecca had long retired to bed. Tomorrow, Jane would go to Maroni and tell him she had accepted his offer. Even though she didn't have Loeb's and Gordon's support, she still wanted – needed – to go back to her old life. As she had told Bruce, sitting around wasn't doing her or anyone else any good at all. Jane had been born to do this, much like Bruce had, and she was going to do whatever it took to keep doing it. She just couldn't get caught was all. Jail was most definitely not appealing to her one single bit. Especially now that she had Rebecca to look after.

It had started to rain a few hours ago and it didn't look as if it would let up. Perfect sleeping weather. A smile on her face, Jane pulled on an oversized tee-shirt and snuggled down into the bed. Rebecca had volunteered to take the couch – even though Jane had planned on her sleeping there for now. Once she worked with Maroni again, Jane had a feeling that she may not be home a lot of nights, leaving Rebecca the bedroom. She wasn't worried about Rebecca though. The girl was a little frightened, much like a mouse. In her case it was perfectly understandable, and made Jane only want to protect her more. But she wasn't worried about anyone coming to her apartment to steal or something during those nights she would be away. People tended to stray far away from her.

Positioning the sheet around her chest, Jane tucked her hands under one of her pillows and curled into a slight fetal position on her side. She had to admit, the lack of sleeping with Bruce, snuggled up to him, was something that she was already starting to miss. Sure, they had only slept that way a few times. Still, his body had made the perfect cushion for her head even though it felt like sleeping on a warm stone sometimes. With a dejected sigh, Jane rolled over onto her other side.

A gasp escaped her and she bolted upwards, resting her body on her hip and an outstretched hand digging into the mattress. Batman stood at her window on the outside, cape sleek against his armor. _Fuck, _what the hell was wrong with him? Did Bruce not understand how undeniably creepy that was? Angrily, she threw the sheets off of her and stomped to the window. She threw it open, her face instantly sprayed with the downpour of rain as she glared at him.

"What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?" She hissed at him. Thankfully, she had a door lock, and she was sure that Rebecca was more than passed out on the sofa. "Get in here before someone sees your ass!" She pushed away and backed into the room, her bare legs hitting the sofa behind her as she wiped her wet face with her hand. The rain was chilly. Batman slid inside, dropping to the ground gracefully before turning stiffly and closing the window. "Don't fucking spy on me. That's fucking weird. I thought we were past that stage?"

Batman lifted his hands to his helmet, taking it off before placing it on the bureau. Jane was struck by the visual of the hard, strong armor, the cape, and his perfect face. Fuck he was too damn perfect looking. Focusing her eyes on his alone, she tried to ignore the rest of his physique. "Why did you leave like that earlier? Something's wrong, I know it."

"I didn't tell you earlier. What makes you think I would tell you now?" She snapped at him. "Besides it's really none of your damn business as to why I came back _to my own fucking apartment_." Shifting her weight to her back leg, she clenched her jaw in frustration. "I thought we had decided that you were going to back off. That's you weren't going to try to know what I'm doing at all times. This protection-thing would be better spent on people who need it, not me. It's getting really fucking annoying."

Bruce cut his eyes at her. "I'm only trying to make sure you don't get yourself into any more trouble."

"Damn it Bruce, I beat you in fucking fight! If I can beat _you_, I can probably beat anyone around here! Get that through your head that I don't need your guard all the damn time." She sighed in frustration, raking her hands through her loose hair.

"I don't want to see you hurt again," he stepped closer and reached for her shoulders. Jane shrugged out of his grip, still pissed off that he had just shown up without telling her. He sighed. Raising his hand to his hair, he ruffled it a bit as he closed his eyes in thought. "I don't have many people that I'm close to…I don't know what would happen if someone were to get to you, regardless of how well you can protect yourself." When he opened his eyes, Jane saw that they were full of sadness. Feeling that pain of guilt and abhor at herself for causing that, she wondered what else she could say now. Damn, how many times did she have to fuck things up?

Wrapping her arms around him, she put her head on his shoulder facing away from his neck and whispered, "Nothing's going to happen Bruce. I'm going to be fine. You need to relax, okay? Don't worry so much when there are far bigger things to think about." She knew she succeeded in her regretful tone as he put his arms around her as well, pulling her closer to him in his fantastic fucking hug. The rain that had yet to dry on his armor soaked through her shirt and her bare legs, but she didn't think about that. Damn him. Here she was, trying to separate herself from him, and he had to come and burn all that down. "Everything's going to be fine. We don't have anything left to worry about."

"I want to keep it that way." Bruce grumbled and chuckled darkly, the laugh vibrating his chest piece against her ear. He sighed deeply and the exhale ruffled her hair. Jane picked her head up off his shoulder, gazing up at him. Bruce brushed her hair out of her face with his gloved hands and met her eyes. "You know…I always miss having you in my arms when you're gone."

She melted.

Melted into a big fucking puddle onto the floor. Knees weak, Jane drew in a shaky breath at his words. _Damn_ he really knew the right things to say. "I missed falling asleep with you." She whispered before she could stop herself. Fuck! What was wrong with her?! She was supposed to try to suppress her feelings, not make them go strong with his. It was too late though – the words were already out in the open, and Bruce had a small smile on his face. Clearing her throat, she bit her lip, trying to think of something to salvage the situation. "Maybe you should go, Bruce."

"Why?" He asked as his brows knit together in confusion. "Why are you so eager to get rid of me?" Bruce dragged his hands to her upper arms and pulled her away from him just slightly so he could look at her a bit better. Jane blinked before stepping away from him, withdrawing until the back of her knees hit the bed.

"You have a job to do out there." She inclined her head to the window and Bruce looked over his shoulder at the rain pouring outside. "And I need to sleep. Rebecca's here and I… I have to go see Maroni tomorrow." Bruce turned back and gave her a weird look before stepping closer to her again. Jane held up a hand, placing it to his chest to stop him. Her cold touch was slippery from the wet armor, pale against the painted black surface. Head dropping, he stared at her hand firmly pressed there. "Go."

A minute later, Jane was just about to command him to go. She would push him out of the damn window herself if it would get him out. It was hard, trying to maintain strong in her decision to pull away from him romantically if he was coming around and saying shit that made her knees weak and her heart stop. Just when she parted her lips to say something, Bruce stepped back. Her arm fell to her side, dangling there and slick with rainwater. Bruce retreated to the window, picking up his helmet. Holding it in his hands, he looked over at where she stood by the bed, meeting her eyes with disappointed ones. Jane was flashed with the sudden urge to run to him, drag him back to the bed, and apologize for everything. Even shit that she didn't do. She wanted to wrap herself around him again and let him continue to speak kind words to her. Jane wanted to share that openness they had when they had sex for the first time. She wanted him to feel as cared for and safe as she had.

Instead, Jane watched as he put the helmet firmly on his head, slipping back into his other persona. The window slid open. Batman stepped through it before he closed it, and she heard him jump off the fire escape.

Curling her arms around herself, Jane sat on the bed. She wasn't going to let herself cry. She wasn't. Couldn't. No tears would be shed for she had brought this on herself. Once she began to fall in love with him and become lovers with him, she should have known that this would come. What she wasn't prepared for was how soon it had happened. Now, she ached to feel his presence, his arms around her, his lips on hers. Jane wondered how other couples were – did they feel this much hurt? This much pain? Of course not. They didn't try to shove themselves away from their partners.

Jane wiped her hand across her face, letting it rest on her cheek as she fell back onto the bed. What had she gotten herself into this time?

She had left Rebecca at the apartment. After explaining that nothing was going to happen to her, she waited until Rebecca said she would be fine before leaving. Though she knew that she was going to have to do this a lot, she still felt anxious at Rebecca being alone. Jane would have to go buy Rebecca a cell phone or something so the two could keep in touch. She didn't have a house phone. Nor did anyone else on the floor. Maybe they did. Jane had never met her neighbors even though she had lived in the building for years. Like she said, people fucking ignored her. Up until now she hadn't cared. The thought hadn't bothered her in the least bit. But now that she had someone she was supposed to be looking after stuck in an apartment in the middle of the Narrows with no way to get in touch with her things were different. It was too late to form some kind of friendship with anyone on the floor though. She would never recognize them anyway.

The first thing Jane had done when she woke up a few hours earlier was check her phone. She told herself that she wasn't looking for a missed phone call or text from Bruce. That she was just checking to make sure Maroni or Gordon hadn't tried to contact her. Deeply, though, Jane knew the real reason why she was looking at her phone and it wasn't for the reasons that she lied to herself about. Disappointment had settled into the pit of her stomach when she saw that she hadn't missed anything, but she had tried to push that away, instead focusing on Maroni for now. He was her top priority. Not her love life. If she even had a love life.

Kicking her most comfortable scruffy boots in a puddle, she sent up a rain of puddle water that soaked through the black fabric of her standard skinny jeans. Jane wasn't going to dress up for Maroni. Fuck that. He was going to be sadly mistaken that she refused to change herself even though he had replaced Falcone. If he expected her to prance around in something feminine and elegant then he could kiss her ass. Jane liked to dress up sometimes, but for herself or for Bruce only. Not for some stupid rich guy that thought he could have a chance at changing her. Bruce's white button down hung open around her frame, a black long-sleeved shirt underneath. Torture, yes. But for some reason she wanted to wear it. She didn't even know that she had accidentally packed it, but she had. When she found it earlier she had a yearning to wear it. Almost as if it were Bruce's arms around her, keeping her safe and tight. It still smelled faintly like his cologne.

Finally, Jane made it to the restaurant. She didn't know the name of it, the words having long faded off of the front of the building. Falcone had never referred to it as anything. Just _the restaurant. _She noticed that Maroni also called it by that. Did anyone know the place's name? Probably not. No one cared about stupid things like that. Taking in a deep breath, she felt nostalgic. When she stepped inside the warmth of the restaurant, she half-expected to see Falcone on one of the side booths in the center, drinking his standard scotch. He wasn't though. Maroni had renovated the place, making it look similar to a sports bar. Scowling, Jane instantly hated the new additions with a passion. What the fuck was Maroni trying to do? 'Re-vamp' everything Falcone had built? It was definitely a stupid thing to do. There was a back corner sectioned off by half-walls, and she assumed that was where Maroni and his goons were. From back there they wouldn't be able to see who came in the door. The fucking cops could burst in and they wouldn't know.

The place was mostly empty as she walked past briskly. Going down the aisle of tables, she scanned the room over a few times, searching for threats or weird behaviors. There was no one to look at though, really. A guy in a sports coat sat at the bar staring down at a fancy-looking drink, a couple eating a sirloin at one of the booths. Nothing. What the fuck happened?

Jane was stopped at the entrance to the cut-off area by a huge mountain of a man. She instantly recognized him as one of the men who had escorted her to Falcone when it was discovered that Bruce was still alive. Right…he had been the jackass one. Smirking at him, she pushed his hand away before he could touch her and stepped around him. He lashed out, grabbing her arm tightly in his and she acted immediately. Twisting her body, she rolled into him and elbowed him sharply in the gut. Then, she pounded her fist upward into his chin in one smooth motion. Jane was moving faster than he expected, and she was able to jam her heel upwards into his groin, rewarded with a satisfied grunt and the feel of his hand dropping away from her.

"Don't _touch_ me," she growled at him. Reaching behind her to tighten her ponytail, she turned to face a surprised looking Maroni. She gave him a curt nod before staring back to the black man who was on his knees in front of her, hacking. "That's for treating me like shit that one time. You're a stupid fuck, you know that?" Shaking her head in distaste, Jane stepped around him, making her way back towards Maroni. None of his other men made a move to come at her, much to her satisfaction, and she pulled out the chair across from him, plopping down in it. She crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her chin up a tad as she squared her shoulders. "Some of your men need to learn respect." She said coldly.

"So it would seem," Maroni replied quietly. He took a sip of his wine and set the tall glass back on the table. Sitting back, he regarded her with that stupid _fucking_ smirk of his that constantly grated her nerves. "Glad to see that you haven't changed much in the short time you've been gone." Jane blinked at him, and he looked to the man still on the ground. She stared at him guardedly, much like she had with Falcone. Still, she respected Falcone far more than she did Maroni. She hated Falcone, but at least he was halfway smart. He had a fucking brain. Something that Maroni seemed to be lacking horribly.

"You've changed a lot of things." She noted, her eyes roaming around the small enclosure. They sat at the longest table, directly in the center of the area. Along the sides were two-seater tables. All dark wood with fresh staining to go with the dark green wallpaper and wooden finishes on the half-walls. A few flat screen televisions hung around the area facing both inside and out. A rich, stupid, fucking sports bar.

"Indeed I have," he flashed an arrogant smile and took another sip of his drink. "Like it?"

"No." She replied flatly. Maroni spluttered his drink a little, clearly caught off guard by her reply. Setting the drink down and wiping his mouth, he gave her a questioning look. Almost as if he couldn't believe that she fucking hated the tacky place. "I could have snuck in with a gun and shot you before you would even know I was here. The layout is stupid. There's no way you can know everyone coming in and going out. You can't see anyone in the main part of the restaurant and you don't have easy access to a back exit. I don't think you could have done a worse job at renovating."

Maroni regained his composure. He put his hands on the table, once again smiling at her. "It's about _style_ and sending a message that I'm not challenged by anyone. I don't have to worry about who comes through the door because, as you can see, I'm very well fortified regardless." He held his hand out to the multiple brawny men standing around the enclosure.

Jane turned her head to see the man she had just taken down. "Yeah. Well-fortified all right." She murmured and looked back to him. His face dropped a smidge. "If I can do _that_ with what? Three moves? Four? What do you think I could have done if I had a gun or a knife? Style and fortifications aren't worth shit if you can't prepare yourself for what's coming at you. But we didn't come here to talk about decorating." She waved the topic away with her hand and sat up. "I accept your proposition and look forward to joining the family again."

"Excellent." He smiled broadly. "I will be most interested in seeing what you can offer us now. I see your loyalties are still with the family even though Falcone is gone. A lot of things will change, of course, and I know it seems sudden, but I'm sure you won't give me a reason to distrust you."

"Of course not."

"Good. Then, I assume you are prepared to slide back into your position as my right-hand? My second-in-command, so to speak? I could use someone with your skills and experiences for the job. And, as you have already proven, you are more than capable of handling yourself." He chuckled.

Jane smiled, placing her hands flat on the table. "I'd be more than happy to."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks to those who review/favorite/follow! LOVE YOU. :D**

Eager to get home as soon as she could, Jane cut through the alley after she left Maroni at the restaurant. It was still daylight outside, clouds thick and grey once more. Was that a fucking requirement for Gotham? Not only was the city damn gloomy, but the weather mostly seemed to be as well. She liked it when it rained at night because it helped her sleep better, but she wanted the sun to shine every now and then. Looking up at the sky, she saw that the clouds appeared heavy as if they were about to open and begin to drench the city with rainfall. With a scowl on her lips, Jane picked up her pace a little. She kicked a trashcan lid that happened to be in her way. It clanged on the concrete and she didn't break her stride as she stepped on one that was lying on its' side. For some reason, she was feeling a little tense. A little…miffed. Maroni always rubbed her the wrong way. And his stupidity, his lack of common sense combined with that stupid fucking cocky-ass grin that he had didn't do anything to help his reputation in her mind.

She had a gun tucked into the back of her jeans in the waistband. When she took longer strides like she was now, it poked into the tender skin there, but didn't bother her too much. Jane rather liked it; actually, the security of knowing that she wasn't defenseless releasing some of that edge that she normally always felt. As she had always firmly believed, it wasn't smart to be walking about Gotham without a little protection at hand. Mob member or not. Jane wasn't going to press her luck any, having nearly had enough of psycho freaks after dealing with Arkham and Crane. Her aim was still the sharpest to her knowledge, and slowly but surely she was becoming a master of her own body. Jane was graced with an almost natural ability for combat, much like some people were born with musical talents or genius-ness or whatever the fuck that was called. Instead of all that, Jane had a –mostly – steady hand and a fantastic right hook. Now that she had time to work on her techniques, she was becoming quite the little machine.

Jane had one what no one else had done – take down the Batman. Granted he didn't have his armor on, but she was pretty sure she would have come out on top anyways. Smirking to herself at the memory, Jane was pulled out of her cocky state of mind by a fat rain drop landing on the stop of her head. Ah, fuck. It was going to rain and she was a good bit away from her apartment. Jane scowled and picked up her pace so that she was almost running down the street. Ponytail swinging behind her and brushing against her neck, she came to the mouth of the alley only to have a hand grasp her hair. She was hauled backwards the way she came.

She hissed as some of her strands were ripped from her scalp. Immediately, she sprung into action, letting instinct take over as she rotated her body to the right, curving into the attack. The grip loosened and she came face-to-face with her attacker, a man she recognized from the restaurant. Rearing back, she jammed her open palm into his nose, busting it. As she jerked her head forward, the man's grip released her. Jane pushed him away from her before tilting her torso the side and launching a kick into his stomach. He sailed into the wall behind him with a crash. Wheezing, his eyes bugged from the sockets.

Jane quickly reached for her gun, whipping it out and shutting safety off, trailing it directly to the center of his forehead. She wouldn't kill him, but he didn't know that. "What do you want?" She growled at him, and the man actually fucking shivered_. _He was her height, plump around the waist and frizzy brown curls in a bad short haircut. His tacky plaid sports jacket had a coffee stain and didn't match his navy blue slacks. Pathetic.

"I-I-I"

"Spit it out!" She screamed and put her finger to the trigger. He cowered against the wall behind him, holding his hands over his face.

Peering at her from between his fingers, the man took in a shaky breath. "I-I'm Maroni's nephew!"

"And? Is that supposed to fucking do anything for you?" Jane took a step closer and pressed the barrel of her handgun into his forehead. "Because it _won't_. I don't deal well with cowardly men like you. Now, what do you want? Why did you follow me?"

His eyes focused somewhere behind her. Before Jane could spin around, she felt an arm wrap around her torso, hauling her away from Maroni's nephew. She threw her head back and jammed her foot into kneecap. The man screamed out in agony and dropped her. Spinning around, Jane brought the butt of the gun onto the head of another man from the restaurant. He fell to one side – onto his unbroken leg – as he continued to howl in pain. Jane grit her teeth as the nephew made a grab for her right hand that held the gun and she pulled her arm out of grasp. She elbowed him in the shoulder then used her left fist to punch into the tender area of his neck.

"Fucking _idiots!_" She said more to herself than to them. As Maroni's weasly nephew scrambled away from her, she kicked the other man in the center of his chest, pushing him onto his back on the ground. "What the hell did you think you were doing? Didn't you fucking notice what I did to that other guy? Jeeze, you guys are fucking _stupid_."

"Yeah?" The nephew reached into the back of his pants and pulled out his own gun. The damn idiot didn't know how to hold it. He had it sideways, trailed on her like some stupid gangster. Jane rolled her eyes and lifted her own gun, her steady hand unmoving as she aimed. "Who's an idiot _now_?"

She snorted. "Really? I've had fights with men a lot tougher and scarier than the likes of _you_." She shook her head and cocked the gun with her other hand. Her body was sideways, not giving him much of a target and her unbuttoned shirt billowed around her, obscuring her real body. A few more raindrops landed on her hands, but she ignored it as she stared steadily into the man's face. "Put the gun down, kid. I'm not one to usually miss."

"Neither am I."

"You didn't even take your gun off of safety. Either you're a bigger fuckhead than I thought or you don't know how to use a weapon. I'm thinking it's kind of a mix of both options." He furrowed his brow and lifted the gun to get a look at it. Jane took the chance and fired. The sound echoed through the alley, and he dropped his gun as her bullet tore through his right arm. He covered the wound with his beefy hand, looking up at her incredulously as if he couldn't believe that she actually shot him. The man beside her began to shift upwards like he was going to join in, and Jane swiveled the gun to him, shooting him in his right arm as well. "Good luck doing any kind of damage without your right arms, gentlemen." She snickered at the two as she shifted the gun into safety more and tucked it back into her pants.

Stepping around the man on the ground, she went to the nephew. He tried to punch her with his left arm, and she reached up, grabbing his fist with her left palm. Jane then punched him square in the jaw with her other. He stumbled back a little and Jane kicked him towards the wall. Caging him, she put one of her hands around his left wrist and the other on his wounded shoulder. Blood was beginning to soak through the thin shirt. She felt a few more raindrops, and sighed in disappointment.

"Now I'm going to have to walk in the damn rain because of you two. Thanks a lot." She snarled and pressed her thumb to the wound, eliciting a high-pitched squeal from him. "Now, tell me why you followed me."

"We do it with all of Maroni's girls." He said once she removed her thumb. Staring at her angrily, he continued on, "he lets us have some of the ones that he works with. He said that if we could contain you, that we could have you." Bile rose to the back of her throat and she jammed her thumb deeper into the bullet hole. "Please! We-we-"

"We _what_? Did you fucking seriously think that you could get me? You two just keep proving how damn stupid and useless you are." She removed her thumb and put her bloodied hand on his chin, forcing him to look at her. "Don't even think about trying shit like that again, do you understand? I'm _not_ the type of person you want to mess with." He nodded furiously, stammering out an apology but was cut off as she back-handed him across the face. "Make sure you tell your friends that too."

Jane pushed away from the wall and went back down the alley towards her house without sparing a glance at the two men in the alley. She kicked the guy's gun out of her way, and a sheet of rain began to fall. It instantly drenched her, and she scowled deeper before taking a right and continuing down the sidewalk. Now she was convinced that Maroni was the bane of human civilization. As low as Crane in her eyes. She wasn't some fucking whore to be passed around freely and the fact that he had said if she could be caught she could be had pissed her the fuck off.

Once she got into her apartment she was going to call Maroni and have a nice little chat with him. Seemed that she was going to have to set the record straight over a few things. Maroni had to make a few more changes other than a stupid, silly renovation. Jane reached a main road and hailed a cab. She was soaked, drenched, and cold. Shivering a little in the backseat of the cab, she gave her directions and then sat back, thankful for the heater the driver had on. In the cab it wasn't that long of a wait until she reached her apartment. Throwing a few crumbled bills at the guy, she quickly ducked out and went to the main door, pulling it open and all but running inside. Jane stood dripping wet in the 'lobby' of the building, creating a nice little puddle around her boots.

She was soon walking up the steps to her apartment while clutching the railing so she wouldn't slip. When she reached the door, she dug out her keys and stuck them in, opening the door. Rebecca looked up from where she was watching television on the couch. "You're…wet." She commented blandly. Jane laughed a little, closing the door with a kick. Staring down, she saw that Bruce's shirt was stuck to her, molding to her as if it weren't supposed to be a huge on her. She shook out her arms, sending flying water droplets everywhere.

"Who would have known?" Jane slipped out of her boots. Bending down, she moved them by the door. "It is, you know, fucking _pouring _outside. Haven't you noticed?" Jane peeled the shirt off of her and went to the bedroom. She stripped, throwing the wet clothes into a corner before going into the bathroom for a towel. After drying off and putting on a dry pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, she dug out her phone and immediately dialed Maroni. He answered in three rings, and she immediately launched into her battering ram of curses. "What in the hell makes you think that allowing your fucking goons come after me would make me want to stay with you, Maroni? Are you really that fucking vapid? I could have killed them easily. How dare you say that if they catch me that they can have me. What in the hell is wrong with you? Do you want your throat slit or something?"

"I didn't know they would actually try Jane-"

"You employ mostly idiots in your little family, what did you expect? They have no brains whatsoever. You better cut out this little deal you have with them right here and now. I won't stand for it, and if you want me to stay then you better change that. Don't ask me to do anything for a week. I'm fucking _furious _with you and your men. Do you understand? Dammit Maroni get your head together." She jammed the phone shut and put it into the pocket of her sweatpants. Huffing, she tried to calm down and stormed into the living room to join her houseguest.

Rebecca was watching some soap opera – the same one, Jane noticed that had played in the hospital. Lifting a dubious eyebrow, she eyed Rebecca. Really? This fucking show? Rebecca turned her head to look at her and shrugged her narrow shoulders. "I got addicted to it. You would too if it had been the only thing on for a few months. I refuse to apologize for it," she said haughtily and turned back to her television show.

"_This_? You got addicted to this mess?" Jane pointed at the screen where an overly made-up woman was sobbing dramatically into another woman's arms, screaming about something dealing with bad plastic surgery.

"_I cannot believe she got it! My daughter promised me that she would never get a tummy tuck, only liposuction! But she got a tummy tuck! Oh, what am I to do, Caroline?" _The woman cried out, looking off into space as a tear rolled down her cheek. The fuck was this shit?

Jane tuned her head back to glare at Rebecca. "Yeah. This is real fucking entertaining."

Rebecca swatted her arm and held the remote out of reach as if she was afraid Jane was going to try to make a grab for it. "Oh come on. It's not that bad. More comedic than dramatic, but still! There's always something going on. Like on yesterday's episode, the daughter with the tummy tuck? Yeah, she found out that her boyfriend was her _cousin_." Jane's eyes widened, taking in the alien sitting in front of her and Rebecca sighed. "What kind of stuff do _you_ watch? It can't be any worse than this."

"I watch the news and seventies sitcoms."

Rebecca's lips curled back in disgust and she shook her head, her long hair shaking around her face. "No wonder why you're so damn grumpy all the time."

"I am _not _grumpy." Jane said. "I just like to know what's going on in Gotham."

"A lot of fucked up shit. That's what's going on in Gotham." Rebecca faced the screen again. Sighing exasperatedly, she threw her hands down on her lap as a commercial appeared. "Great! Now I missed what was going on with Philip and Latrice."

"Who?"

"Latrice is the daughter with the tummy tuck. Philip is her butler but also her secret lover."

"I thought she was dating her cousin?" Jane narrowed her eyes in confusion and looked to the commercial playing. Something about a cheap lawyer and divorces.

Rolling her eyes, Rebecca corrected her as if Jane should know what was happening. "She _was_. This is _Daylight Hours_, there's always something going on like I said before. Latrice was dating her cousin _and_ the butler at the same time. But now that she knows her boyfriend is her cousin, Philip is trying to get with her. Latrice still loves her boyfriend-slash-cousin Eric though. What Latrice doesn't know is that Eric is also with her bestfriend Casey, but Philip _does _know because his mother told him after she heard her maid and her sister, Jamie, talk about it when they were at John's funeral."

"I already have a headache." Jane scratched her head. What kind of television show was this? Beside her, Rebecca chuckled.

"Don't worry, you'll catch up. Oh, here it is! Shut up." Rebecca's arms flailed as she zeroed in on the show. Jane sighed, but one corner of her mouth lifted in a small smile. She was glad to see that Rebecca wasn't a mopey, teary mess. Jane was not good with that emotional stuff. The fact that Rebecca seemed happy was a huge relief to her, and Jane decided she would gladly give up control of the remote as long as it kept her visitor content. She was sleeping on the couch after all.

Jane curled a strand from her wet ponytail around her fingers as she watched the show. The acting was horrible and there were a lot of twists and turns in the plot. None of it really made much sense to her since she had never watched the show before, but she had to admit that it was a little entertaining. Funny, mostly. Almost as if the actors themselves knew how ridiculous the script was and just threw all care to the wind, going balls-out with what they were offered. Soon, Jane found herself absorbed into the show, gasping sharply with Rebecca once it was discovered that Latrice was carrying John's child. Rebecca shrieked in surprise, hand flying to her mouth as Philip cried in a corner.

"Oh my! I so didn't see that coming." She exclaimed as the credits rolled. Her eyes were wide and she looked at Jane. "Can you believe that? That little skank was sleeping with John, Philip, _and_ Eric at the same time!" Jane laughed and was about to get up from the couch when Rebecca latched onto her arm and pulled her down back onto the couch. "Wait! There's another episode coming on."

When the television show finally went off around midnight, Jane and Rebecca were far to wiled up to go to sleep. By the end of the marathon, a mystery woman had appeared claiming to be Eric's sister. She and Philip got together before she left, stealing all of his money. There had been a bank robbery at Latrice's bank, Eric shot in the process and was currently straddling the fine line between death and life. Latrice's mother was imprisoned for fraud but had been set up by her husband who disappeared with Casey. Eric had come out of the closet and decided to run for mayor of the town. Everything made Jane's head spin when she thought about it altogether, but she had to admit that she show _was_ fucking addictive.

Rebecca set a bowl of chicken noodle soup in front of Jane on the coffee table. She went to take her spot on the other end of the worn couch, carefully moving so she wouldn't spill her steaming bowl. "Thanks for cooking," Jane said and picked up her own soup. She stirred it a little, blowing on it softly. Her stomach was growling angrily and the soup smelled divine. "I can't cook worth a shit."

"I stuck it in the microwave." Rebecca shrugged, eyeing her own bowl. "It wasn't as if I really did anything. She scooped some into her spoon and lifted it to her lips, but thought better as it touched her lips, putting it back down. Clearing her throat, Rebecca turned to look out the window behind her. It was extremely dark now with the exception of a few street lamps that didn't really do much. The curtain was closed mostly save for a slice down the middle that let them see outside. She sighed, her jaw moving as she swallowed thickly. Jane scrunched her brow. What was wrong with her?

"Everything okay?" She asked concernedly. Rebecca's head slowly swiveled back to Jane. Her eyes were no longer bright, instead they were almost saddening and Jane put her bowl down as she scooted closer to the girl. "What's wrong?" Reaching forward, she tugged the bowl out of Rebecca's hands and set it on the table beside hers. "You can tell me. I'm here to help you."

"You know what's funny?" Rebecca looked down at her hands in her lap, brushing her fingers across one another as she sniffled once. Was she crying? Jane tensed a little, sensing an emotional outpour coming along. Fuck she really wasn't the best one for this. "I didn't tell you this but…when I was younger, my mom always wanted me to get pregnant so that we could get more money. She wanted me to get fucking _pregnant_. I wanted to go to school and stuff, get rich like a Wayne." She barked a laugh, shaking her head at her own stupidity. "But I didn't. Told her that I wouldn't. She got real pissed at me and everything. When I was down in that basement and Crane used the drugs on me, my worst fear that I recall was being nothing. I always feared staying in the Narrows, having kids, and no life. Not supporting myself and _becoming _something in the world. When Crane did what he did, he found out about my fears. He used it against me and…sure enough. I was in the hospital and they told me that I was having a child. _His _fucking child."

Jane gasped faintly at the revelation. Gordon hadn't told her this. Why did he keep this from her? This was important fucking shit! Sympathy oozed from her as she tugged Rebecca into a hug, squeezing her arms around her. She couldn't imagine being pregnant by someone like Crane under the circumstances she had been in. Knowing that she was carrying that monster's child was probably more horrifying than the drugs itself… The child might be innocent, but still. She tightened her arms around Rebecca and put a hand in her hair, allowing the girl to fall against her.

"I couldn't have it. I had the doctors get rid of the baby." Rebecca cried against her, burying her face in Jane's shoulders. Jane frowned but didn't say anything. What could she say? There was nothing to speak about. No words of comfort, no words of sympathy that she could say. The topic had obviously been eating away at Rebecca, and this was probably the first time that she really talked about it with anyone. Gordon had told her earlier that after Rebecca had been moved into the hospital that she refused a psychiatrist, not that Jane blamed her. Crane hadn't exactly left a good impression on her. "I don't know what I can do. I feel so _horrible_ about the whole thing." Rebecca's fingers tightened around Jane's shirt.

When Jane softly pulled the girl off of her to look her in the eyes, she saw that Rebecca was reduced to a sniffling, crying mess. Gently, Jane put her hand on her shoulder. "There's nothing that you can do," she offered weakly, feeling fucking stupid about the whole thing. Hopefully she wouldn't say something horribly wrong and make the situation worse. "What happened, happened. You were in no state to carry a child anyway. With the exposure to the toxins, there's no telling what kind of horrible state it would be in. The baby probably wouldn't have survived." She touched the girl's chin and lifted it to eye her strongly. "You did _nothing_ to be ashamed of. You did what was best for you and the child."

"I ended a life though. I took it away."

"Not necessarily. With the drugs and abuse you went through, the babe's mental and physical state were probably undeveloped, mutated and destroyed due to the treatment that you had. Your body also wouldn't have been able to heal itself well enough to supply the child with everything that it needed. You were still trying to heal, and there was no way that you could have been able to heal both yourself and the baby at the same time." She dropped her hand down into her own lap. "It's going to be hard, but…you can't keep blaming yourself for it. You didn't ask for it, you didn't want it. You did what anyone else in your situation would have done."

Rebecca didn't seem to be responding. Fuck, what was she going to do now? The girl looked so weak and fragile, as if she would split apart right down the middle in front of her. Jane took in a deep breath and ran her fingers through her ponytail, taking it out and then shaking the hair out. Putting the ponytail holder on her wrist, she thought about what she could do, what she could say to make Rebecca calm down. Sinking into a depression like this wasn't going to help her at all. Jane bit the inside of her cheek and thought for a moment. Damn, what could she say? Suddenly, she wished that she had grown up with a lot of girl friends. Maybe then she would know what to say at a moment like this.

Maybe Rebecca would react with knowing that she wasn't the only fuck-up? That Jane had her own dark skeletons? _Fuck_ was she really going to do this? Was she going to spill everything to Rebecca? Sighing, Jane looked at the mess in front of her and realized that yes, a fucked-up Jane was what Rebecca needed right now. She needed that security in knowing that she could rise from her past. Rebecca probably had a worse past than Jane, but knowing that she wasn't alone right now could help her. Jane hadn't been through an abortion or anything, but did that really matter at the moment? Rebecca needed a distraction and Jane couldn't think of anything else to tell her rather than her own story.

"My mother left me when I was little," she started, leaning her shoulder against the couch. "It was really weird. I remember her tucking me into bed the night before, and when I woke up the next morning she was just gone. Disappeared right out of thin air. We didn't know where she went, where she had gone to, or what had happened. She only left a note on the kitchen counter that said _'Goodbye.'_ And…that was it. That was the last time I ever heard from her. I don't even know if she's alive. Sadly, I can't even remember her name. I always called her 'Mom' and after that day, my dad never said her name.

"I grew up with no mother and a shell of a father. Most of the time he would sit in the living room, watching the television with a glazed look over his eyes. He didn't speak to me much, barely even looked at me most of the time. I was really little at the time, but I learned to go to the next-door neighbor when I was hungry or needed something. She was an old woman with a crack addict for a son. I called her 'Mamsy' because she told me to," Jane smiled sadly at the memory and tucked her hands underneath her arms as she tried to get comfortable. "Mamsy was the one who took me to school, fed me, clothed me, and looked after me. She treated me like her granddaughter or something. For years she took care of me, but I always went back to my dad. I wanted to make sure that he hadn't woken up yet, but he never did. I was still hopeful that I would come back home and Mom would be there. Dad would be awake and we'd be a nice little family again. It never happened though. But I was a kid. Fairy tales could happen, you know?

"When I turned thirteen…I was at Mamsy's apartment like usual. She was really old by then, and I had come to take care of her instead of the other way around. Her son still lived there, though he was always under the influence. I still don't know how he managed to survive that long. I walked into the room to see him shouting at her, screaming for money that she didn't have. She was really upset, crying and I tried to stop him before he hurt her or something. He then screamed at me, saying that I stole all the money from his bedroom. He beat me up – almost killed me. No one came to help the two of us even though I screamed for help. As you know, shit like that is almost fucking normal around here.

"My dad, though…he actually came in. He heard me and burst through the door. He shot Mamsy's son. A loud, cracking noise that echoed through the whole apartment. I was elated at my dad coming to save me, waking up from his ghost-like state. Mamsy, though, screamed in horror as she bent over her son's body. Even though he had almost killed her and me, she was still distraught. She began screaming at _us_ and called the police. Dad took me back to our apartment and began pacing nervously. I was still glad that he was alive now. It was like, the best damn thing you know? Anyway, he called someone and told me to go to my room. He was frantic, worrying, and I didn't understand anything that he was saying. Police came, but they didn't arrest him. Later when I got older, I found out that Dad had joined Falcone's mob and was therefore under their protection. They wouldn't arrest him even if he shot someone right there in front of them.

"For the next few years, Dad taught me how to shoot. Said that he wouldn't always be around to help me. He took me to a firing rage outside of town every weekend for four years, teaching me how to use a gun. I also learned how to fight some, mostly defensive things just in case anything that happened at Mamsy's apartment happened again. He realized that it wasn't smart for a young girl to be out on the streets in the Narrows without protection of some sort. By the time I was seventeen, I could shoot better than anyone I knew, even better than him. He was happy about that, and I was happy that I had a parent again. After school one day, I came home and someone was in our apartment. I walked in and saw my dad was dead, lying on the couch with his hands tied. The guy merely looked at me and smiled before walking out, leaving me standing there, shocked at the sight.

"The first person I called was Falcone. I knew he could help me more than any cop. I knew that my dad still dealt with the mob – it was what got him killed – and that he still allied with Carmine. He told me where to find him and I went. I described the man I saw, and Falcone asked if I wanted revenge. I said yes. It was the second time someone had taken my father away from me and I _wasn't _going to fucking let them just walk away unharmed from it. He polished up my fighting techniques while his guys searched for the man who killed my father. Falcone finally announced to me that they got the guy and we went to a warehouse where he was tied up. I was still angry, fucking pissed that both of my parents had been ripped away from me. He had worked for another mob and had killed my dad for little to no reason at all. My dad died because he had been a member of Falcone's crime family, yet he had not anything but sell drugs. He didn't kill anyone. Didn't steal. Didn't rape. Didn't do _shit_ but they still killed him.

"I tortured him. For three fucking hours with knives and whatever tools were lying around. I beat him with a pipe. Carved my dad's name into his chest. Sliced up his skin and beat him to a bloody pulp until he was screaming for mercy. Then I left him there to bleed to death." Jane swallowed thickly and realized that she had tears on her own cheeks. She wiped them off instantly and looked up to see Rebecca staring at her calmly, taking in her story with no emotion evident on her face. "I had to join Falcone for protection against the other mobs. For a while, the guy's family tried to avenge his death, sending guy after guy to try to take me down, but I always came out on top. Eventually, they just stopped trying and I became valuable in Falcone's eyes. To him, I was his protégée, his work of art even though he hadn't done much to shape me.

"I still don't regret killing the guy. Can't bring myself to. Sometimes, when I think about it I'm horrified at the manner in which he died, and after the first wave of shock hit me I realized just how inhumane I had become. How fucking hard and heartless I was. I embraced that, using it to make myself stronger. After a few months, I grew to despise the mob even though I still stayed with it. Mostly as a sign of my appreciation to Falcone for letting me have my revenge. I was a part of the family for years – still am as of today – and I've done shit I'm not proud of. I have my scars, but I wear them proudly, and so should you. Even if you regret them they still made you into who you are."

Taking in a deep breath, Jane brushed her hair back, not meeting Rebecca's eyes for a few moments. Rebecca would probably want to leave now, flee from the fucking monster and fucked-up woman Jane had revealed herself to be.

"You're not that person anymore though." Rebecca whispered and Jane looked up at her curiously. "You're not a cold-hearted, cruel girl anymore. I can see that plainly. You might have been once, but something's happened to you…" she shook her head. Placing a hand on Jane's shoulder, she turned her so that she was looking at her fully. "You've become someone much more than who you used to be. You don't have that anger and darkness in you as much anymore."

"Oh, I'm plenty angry." Jane laughed humorlessly. "I was born angry I think."

"I don't think you were. I think who you are now has been the real you all along. It was just shielded by all the anger and hate that you had inside of you."

"You like to see the best in people, don't you?"

Rebecca shrugged and removed her hand. "If you hadn't noticed, so do you sometimes."

Jane went to her bedroom shortly after. Her original plan had been to console Jane with her story and past, but now that it was out there in the open, she felt as if she herself needed consoling. Bringing those feelings back to the surface had been like opening a fresh wound. She almost felt as if she was that girl again, the one clouded by rage and a deadly fire that consumed her entire being. She felt a sharp pang in her chest as she thought about her father, the image of his bloodied, bullet-riddled body on the couch dominating her senses. Squeezing her eyes shut, she put her hands on her head as if to push out the memories. She didn't want them. Not now. _Fuck_.

Moving, she sat on the bed and buried her face in her hands completely; bring her legs up to her chest as she curled around herself. Once again, she was that scared girl who didn't know what she was doing. She didn't have anyone to turn to. No one to wrap their arms around her to soothe her fear. Jane was just a silly little girl trapped in a world that she didn't understand, flooded with feelings that she couldn't handle. Damn what she wouldn't do to have Bruce hold her tight again. He could erase everything from her mind.

That's right. She fucking pushed him away. Even though it had been the best for not only them, but for Gotham, Jane felt furious. Couldn't she have someone? Couldn't she be granted at least one person that would care after her and love her? Was that too fucking much to ask? Since her father's death, Bruce had been the one person to show her immense compassion, caring for her and nurturing her like a lover should. And what did she do? She fucking pushed him away and tried to stop something from happening. Tears poured from her now, much like the rain outside the bedroom window. She felt so fucking disgusted, so wasted.

She always screwed things up.


	7. Chapter 7

**See you at the bottom!**

Jane woke to a horrible knocking sound on her door. Lurching her head up in startlement at the sound, she let out a loud groan before letting it fall back onto the pillow. She was lying on her stomach, the comforter pulled up to her chin as she snuggled into the sheets tiredly. What fucking time was it? Peeking one eye open, she saw that it was sunny outside. Sunny in Gotham? Odd. She squeezed her eyes closed again and focused on sinking further back into the deep sleep she had been so rudely torn out of. The incessant knocking sounded again, and whoever was doing the knocking tried to jiggle the doorknob only to find it locked.

"Jane! Wake up!" Rebecca shouted, her voice muffled by the door. Jane grimaced and turned her head away to face the opposite side. She moved a little, grabbing onto the sheets awkwardly from the position she was in to pull them up over her head. Cocooned in the nice warmth of the sheets, she blissfully ignored Rebecca's ridiculous attempts to wake her up in favor of sleep. "Someone's here to see you. Says his name is Bruce Wayne. Get your ass up _right now_. You have a fucking billionaire in your living room asking to see your sleepy-headed ass. Did you hear me?"

Bruce? Bruce was here? Jane's eyes shot open. Why was he at her apartment? Immediately, she pushed the covers off of her and scrambled out of the bed. Jane grumbled something unintelligent and brushed her hair out of her face. She could feel the rat's nest formed there but she didn't care. Curiosity banged away at her mind to find out why Bruce was at her place this early in the morning. She didn't even bother to put on pants, a pair of socks and a huge black shirt the only things she wore. Oh well. He had seen her naked before anyways.

"Jane, get –" Rebecca's fist pounded on the door again and Jane snapped it open. She had to jolt her head to the side in order to miss Rebecca's flying hand. Growling a little in annoyance, she snapped out to grab her wrist, holding it in the air as Rebecca gave her a curious look.

"As you can see," Jane said calmly, "I'm _up_." She smiled thinly at Rebecca and dropped her hand. Looking over the petite girl's shoulder she saw Bruce standing with an amused look on his face by her door. He wore a pinstripe suit, looking extremely out of place amongst the old and scuffed furniture. "Bruce. What are you doing here this early?"

Bruce was about to speak when Rebecca cut him off by scoffing. "Early? It's fucking lunchtime." Leaning to Jane's ear, she whispered, "be _nice_. He's cute and kind." Jane blinked and Rebecca twirled around to beam at Bruce. "You can go in, Bruce. Don't mind me. I'll just be watching some television in here." She giggled and Jane narrowed her eyes. What the fuck was the girl's problem? At least she wasn't scared of Jane. Seemed that their talk last night had accomplished what Jane wanted it to. She seemed happy now, light as she bounced onto the couch and grabbed the remote.

Bruce eyed Rebecca a little warily as he walked to Jane's room. She stepped back to allow him room to enter, and once he was near her bed he turned around. Closing the door, she locked it and crossed her arms over her chest, pivoting to face him. She was really glad to see him even if she didn't appear to be. Last night's self-pity fest had left her with a thirst for him to console her. She didn't know what he was doing here, but she was glad that he was standing in her room.

The two eyed each other for a moment, the tension in the room a bit awkwardly. Jane huffed, reaching a hand to ruffle through her hair as she struggled to find something to say. "So what are you doing here?" There. Straight to the fucking point.

Bruce tucked his hands into his pocket and turned his head to the side a bit as if he were studying her carefully. "I came to see how you were doing. You weren't yourself the last time you and I spoke. I think you and I have a lot to discuss."

Taking in a shaky breath, she nodded her head in agreement. "We do, but not here. Rebecca's probably listening to every word that we're saying." She walked over to the bureau, feeling Bruce's eyes on her as she brushed past him. Opening a drawer, she combed through until she pulled out a pair of jeans. Jane stepped into them, tugging them up and moving the shirt out of the way so that she could button them. "You said it was lunchtime, right? Want to take me out to eat somewhere?"

"Sure," he smiled and turned his back respectfully as she yanked her shirt off of her, tossing it on top of her unmade bed. Jane resisted the urge to laugh at the gesture. He had seen her fucking naked and in far less than a bra and jeans on other occasions. Shaking her head, Jane grabbed a fitted v-neck pink shirt and put it on. She was looking around the room for her boots when she remembered that she had put them by the door. Jane went to the bathroom, brushing her teeth while combing through her hair with her fingers until it looked somewhat suitable.

"All right, let's go." She said, grabbing a knife from the top of her drawer and tucking it into one of her pockets. Bruce raised his eyes when he saw it. "I don't go anywhere without something now," she explained even though he should have remembered that little fact about her. It wasn't some new thing of hers.

"You don't think you're safe with me around?" He asked as the two walked out of the bedroom. Rebecca's head snapped up and widened when she saw that Jane was fully changed. Giving Jane a devilish grin, she smugly went back to her soap opera.

"It's not that, Bruce," Jane sighed as she stepped into her boots. Bending over, she tied them, feeling Bruce's eyes on her ass for a second. "It's just, well, you know." She stood and fixed the hem of the shirt, pulling it down a little. Looking at Rebecca, she said, "I'm going out to eat. You'll be fine here by yourself?"

"Of course! You two go out and have a good time." Rebecca winked at her, causing Jane to pause as she put her keys in her pocket. Damn, Rebecca was a bit strange. She shook her head at the young girl and turned on her heel. She opened the door and went out first, knowing Bruce was following her. Jane practically ran down the steps, taking them two at a time, sped on by a growling stomach. She hadn't eaten much of the soup last night and she slept through breakfast. When she burst out the door she saw that Bruce's car was being flocked around, people eyeing it strangely at the fancy car in the middle of the Narrows. When Bruce clicked the automatic lock, they hurried away from it as if they had been caught looking at something they shouldn't have. Jane peeked over her shoulder and chuckled at Bruce before opening her door and jumping in.

Bruce went around and slid in the driver's seat. "Where to?" He asked as he cranked the engine, the car purring gently to life. He looked over at her and Jane shrugged.

"Anywhere you want to go. Nothing fancy though. I hate rich people food." She put an arm on the window sill of the passenger door and cradled her hand in the open palm.

"You've never tried it," Bruce chuckled at her as he pulled away from the curb, checking for traffic.

"Don't have too. I already know I won't like it. You pay like, a hundred fucking bucks for a meal and get this super tiny amount of food." Jane pointed out. "If I ever pay that much for a meal, for one: my priorities are obviously not in line and I need to be fucking _shot_; and two: there better be a lot of food and it better be the best damn meal I ever have in my life."

Bruce didn't take offense to her comments, merely laughed and shook his head at her bluntness. Jane knew that he felt the same about the ridiculousness the higher class dealt with. He had never blatantly said it, but somehow she knew that inside he saw that hypocrisy that she did. Why pay a hundred dollars for a meal to fundraise for a charity when you could just buy the meals for starving people directly on the streets? A hundred dollars, when doled out correctly, could feed many, many Gothamites. Jane and Bruce didn't say anything else as he drove out of the Narrows, crossing the wide bridge and going into the central part. He eventually pulled up to a small café, parking the car close to the curb. She quickly got out, ignoring the wide-eyed glances as Bruce emerged as well.

She wasn't concerned with Maroni finding out about her association with Bruce. He would probably be curious, but she knew she could easily spin a lie about how they met. There was the little problem with the fact that Falcone had wanted Bruce dead at one point. It would cause her a bit of concern if Falcone had ever told anyone else about it. She didn't think the big black guy that took her to see him that night would say anything. In fact, he probably couldn't remember the night to begin with. Bruce was also notorious for having several girlfriends though that playboy hadn't shown up on newspapers and tabloids since Jane had moved in with him. It appeared that Bruce was no longer playing the field and the paparazzi had yet to get a picture of the two of them together. Jane could easily write their connection off as she trying to leech money off of him or their relationship being purely physical. She no longer cared how she came off to Maroni morally. Especially after he had proven his stupidity on multiple occasions to her.

Bruce held the door open for her and Jane gave him a smile as she walked through. It always tickled her when Bruce was trying to be so gentleman-ly. She was certainly no lady, and the little things he did either irked her or made her laugh. One time he had pulled her chair out for her in the dining room at his apartment when Alfred had cooked a big meal for the three. She had been extremely confused, moving to sit on the opposite side instead. Bruce and Alfred had a good laugh about that for some unknown reason. But whatever. Pulling out a chair? She could get her own damn chair.

The restaurant reminded Jane of a Starbucks. A bar on the front wall, small dark brown furniture that matched the flooring, A hunter green wallpaper coated the walls and would have made the small, crowded room seem lightless and bleak if not for the wall of windows overlooking the street outside. A few low lights were scattered around the place, but the windows seemed to provide the biggest source of light. Jane went to the back corner where there was an empty two-seat table, instantly sliding in so that she faced the door. Bruce gave her a funny look as she practically jumped at it. Giving him a wide smile, Jane grasped the salt shaker and twirled it around on its side as Bruce sank into the seat across from her.

"So, how's life?" Jane asked nonchalantly. She twirled the shaker too hard in one direction, and the glass banged on the hard table. Wincing, her eyes scanned around to see if anyone in the bustling room heard it, but found that everyone was already looking at the two anyway. Why were they staring? Scrunching her eyebrows, she swiped off the salt that had spilled on the table and looked back at Bruce. Oh yeah. She was with fucking Bruce Wayne. Snorting, she shook her head. "Is it like this all the time?" Tilting her head towards the center of the room, Bruce looked over his shoulder to see what she was talking about.

Seeing the dozens of heads staring at the two, he turned back to face Jane with a small, sad smile. "I'm afraid so. As far as life?" He hummed and crossed his arms on the table, leaning on his elbows as he looked at her. "It's been better." Jane blushed fiercely and ducked her head to hide her small smile that decided to plaster itself on her face.

"Is it true what they say? About the staring, I mean." She clarified and spun the salt shaker again. "Do you ever get used to it?"

Bruce shrugged his shoulders. Moving his hands up, he templed them at his chin quizzically, thinking for a moment. "Not really, actually. I've grown to ignore it most of the time, but it's still strange. You're going to be stared at from now on. People are starting to take pictures that'll soon be the headlines of all the tabloids around."

"I may actually buy a copy this time then." Jane took the pepper shaker and began to play with the two. A red-headed waitress came up to their table, Jane looking up to see the woman's attention directed on Bruce who was still looking at Jane.

"Welcome!" She said cheerily, and then flashed Jane a toothy grin behind her red lipstick. "What can I get you two to drink?"

"A coke is fine for me." Jane said.

"Tea." Bruce replied. The waitress turned and walked away. Jane watched her with a small smile as the waitress turned her head to look at their table a few times before disappearing somewhere. "How have you been? You know, in the mere day that we haven't seen each other."

"I talked to Maroni. He seemed eager and pleased to have me back, so I think it'll work out fine in the end. Even if I can't have Gordon's and Loeb's backing, I just have to do what you said and try not to get caught." She sat the two shakers upright and removed her hands. Placing them on the table, Jane's eyes roamed around the room again. Other than a few people, most had turned back to their meals. Good. Jane thought she was going to be able to have a little fucking privacy with Bruce. Instead, it was like the two of them were in the center of a parade or something. "Rebecca's doing fine. She seems to like it at my place."

"Has she said anything?"

She quirked an eyebrow suspiciously. No, there was no way Bruce could know about the abortion before her. No fucking way. Unless… Narrowing her eyes, she studied his carefully. There was something off in them, something…wary yet concerned. She snapped forward, leaning in closer to him and glared. "Did you listen in last night?" Surprise flickered in his eyes and Jane felt her blood began to boil. Before he could say anything else, she cut him off. "How fucking _dare _you. I can't believe you fucking spied on us." She growled lowly, trying not to cause a scene. Leaning back, she worked her jaw for a moment. What gave Bruce the right to listen in on her conversations with Rebecca? If she wanted Bruce to know, she would tell him. It was none of his damn business. Wait a minute. "How much did you hear?"

Turning her eyes back to Bruce's she saw that he had a calculating look in his eyes. As if he was weighing whether he should lie to her or tell her the truth. Already knowing the answer, Jane stood up, the chair screeching loudly and attracting everyone's attention. "_How dare you_." She snarled, deeply disappointed in him. He knew. He knew _everything_. And she hadn't even been able to be the one to tell him. Instead, he decided to ignore his duties as Batman and instead pry into her life, unwelcomed. The waitress appeared beside Jane, still chirpy.

Unaware of the showdown between the two, she said, "I have your drinks! Ready to order?" Jane didn't answer. Instead, she grabbed the nearest cup from the waitress' hand and threw it at Bruce, covering him in coke or tea or whatever the fuck it was. Jane barely heard the collective gasp of shock that went around the room, already halfway out the door. Storming and steaming, Jane marched through the glass doors with enough force to almost break the glass.

How dare he. How fucking dare he do this to her. Jane was fuming, more than furious with the fact that Bruce didn't seem to have a decent enough respect for her to not spy on her like that. She thought he would leave her alone. Especially after she kicked him out of the house the night before. But, no. He fucking used his money and his tools that he had from being Batman and fucking _pried _into her secret conversation with Rebecca. She had never planned on telling him. It wasn't something that he needed to know. It was none of his damn business. Fists forming at her sides, her nails dug into the flesh of her palms as she clenched her jaw.

Fuck Bruce. Fuck Batman. Fuck his money. Fuck him. He took her trust and threw it on the ground after knowing just how high of a value she placed on it. Instead of asking her about it – she would have refused to answer, of course – he reduced to eavesdropping on her. Not only did he expose her secrets, but he also exposed Rebecca's. Jane was furious. Her skin felt hot and she could feel the angry blush on her cheeks. Walking down the street, she stopped to throw an angry kick into a metal trashcan. She gained a few questioning looks but ignored it as she kept walking, the thirst to beat something into a coma not leaving her.

"Jane! Jane, wait. Let me explain," Bruce called out behind her. He followed her? Was he really that fucking stupid? Whirling around, Jane stood in the middle of the streets, eyes cutting through Bruce as he slowed in front of her. His hair and suit were wet, face obviously dried off by a napkin or the sleeve of his coat. Whatever it was, she didn't give a fuck. All she could see was the man who took everything she held dear and stampeded through it as if it meant nothing. "I didn't mean to –"

"Don't tell me that you didn't mean to listen in, Bruce. That's probably the worst and most cliché apology I've ever heard. You shouldn't have been anywhere around my apartment in the first place. Much less fucking close enough to use your little fucking spy gear to hear my conversations. Do you spy on me all the time, Bruce? Because you know what? That's fucking creepy as shit and makes me think that you don't trust me. And if you don't trust me, that makes me think that I shouldn't trust you. I thought that you would respect me enough not to pull a fucking stunt like this, but I was obviously wrong. Looks like I made a poor choice of character _again_," she spat at him. Spinning around, she made to continue her stampeding rage when Bruce grabbed her arm. Violently, she swung around and slapped him across the face. "Don't _fucking _touch me!"

People on the street were watching the two of them curiously, some even bringing out their phones to record the duo as they stared each other down. Jane snatched her arm out of his grip, but didn't turn to move, watching instead with a righteous air as Bruce lifted his hand to his reddening cheek, rubbing the area a little. "You don't have to be so hard all the time, Jane," he said slowly. "Sometimes, people just want to help you."

"Maybe I don't want or need your fucking help."

"What I did was wrong. I understand that. I just thought our relationship meant more to you than keeping secrets from me."

"My secrets? What about _yours_? You have just as many secret as I do, Bruce, so don't even start that shit with me. You haven't exactly been forthcoming either. It's none of your damn business anyway seeing as how we _don't _have a relationship."

She watched as his eyes became hard, cold. Jane wondered if she might have went too far, but refused to take back what she said. Swallowing thickly, she turned on her heel again and walked away, leaving Bruce behind like she always did.

Jane didn't feel like facing Rebecca when she got back to her apartment. So as she walked towards the bridge leading to the Narrows, she instead turned left, heading towards the only other place she knew to go. She shivered a little as a chill breezed through the crowded streets of business women and men going about their daily lives, as well as a few shoppers and the like. Normal for the time of day. Folding her arms across her chest, she took in a shaky breath.

Her anger had long left her, leaving her cold and hurt beyond relief. Bruce had betrayed her, and that betrayal hurt worse than anything. It was worse than Crane's assault. Worse than Eric's death. Worse than re-living the horrible experiences of her past. It hurt because Bruce was supposed to be her rock. Her sole companion that she could rely on in the world of chaos around her. They were bonded by the responsibilities they mantled, the risks they took. Bonded by a need to protect one another from cruelties. They were each other's safe havens, refuge from everything else.

Bruce had betrayed that.

Scuffing her boots as she walked with her eyes on the ground, Jane wondered if she could ever grow back from this. It took her ten years to get over the events surrounding her father's murder, and even then she had become apprehensive of him. Unlike Bruce, her father had left her before. Bruce had yet to fail her up until now. Now with the treachery that cut like a knife, she didn't know what she would do now. He had seemed genuinely sorry about spying in on her after seeing how she reacted, but still. How would she know if she could trust him? How could she be sure? Everything would be questioned now. Everything, ruined.

She felt like crying. If she wasn't so hell-bent on keeping herself together, she might would have. The tears were definitely there, blurring her vision and she blinked furiously to get them away. Damn she felt horrible. She felt so…alone. Hurting with a deep sadness, Jane drew in an unsteady breath, breathing out slowly with a white puff of a cloud. Damn it all to hell if she hadn't warned herself about something like this happening before she began to care for Bruce more and more. She knew that it would only end with one of them broken into pieces. Somehow, she knew it would always be her. Jane had even tried to push him away and still she came out the wounded one.

Gordon's house came into view. Jane wiped at her eyes and tightened her ponytail. She didn't want to look upset or anything, not wanting him to ask her about it. Telling him about Bruce would only complicate things and she would have to watch what she said too carefully around him. It was better to not open up and talk about it just yet. She needed some time to think first. Think about what she was going to do about Bruce. Think about her own feelings. Think about where she would go from here without Batman at her side…

As she walked up the steps, she heard the sounds of childish laughter. Jane paused, her hand hovering over the latch of the screen door for a moment. Gordon was with his family…it would be wrong for her to come in and destroy that with talk of business. He worked more than enough already. With a deep sadness, Jane stepped down the steps slowly, lagging purposefully as she didn't know of where else to go. Putting her hands deep into her pocket, she slowly went to the bridge. Her steps were small, pace dragging as she thought of Gordon's family. They were close, tight-knit. She had only met them once and knew that. Even with Gordon's crazy hours and dangerous work, the family still held itself together. No one left, no one died. They were there.

Jane tucked the fly-away strand behind her ear and looked up from the gray concrete. Spotting a taxi, she frowned. Where would she go now? She still wasn't ready to go back to her apartment and with Gordon busy….

Sticking a hand out, she waved for it. It stopped a little further up the street and Jane sped up a little. As she slid into the back seat, Jane didn't know what she was doing. It just felt right.

The apartment building of her youth was empty. Busting through yellow 'Caution' tape, Jane had managed to somehow make it up the wooden steps without breaking her neck to the third floor. Now, she stood in the center of what used to be her living room. It was deserted; obviously a few homeless people had lived here once. Trash was littered everywhere, mostly empty except for things the people couldn't carry. The refrigerator was gone, as was the stove, and the cabinets were ripped off the hinges. Loose drawers were everywhere on the floor, and a few plastic bags ruffled from the air coming from the busted windows. Across the small space she could make out the two doors leading to the bedroom. The one on the left, hers. The right, her father's.

The apartment had seemed tiny even when she was a child, but now that she was grown it seemed even more miniscule. Had she really lived here? It seemed like such a long time ago, yet the memories were fresh in her mind. She remembered living here as if it were yesterday. Now, the apartment bore the physical sadness that she felt on the inside.

Turning around slowly, she inhaled sharply as she saw that her father's sofa was still in the tiny enclave beside the door. She hadn't seen it when she came into the apartment, and the sight sent a rigid feeling down her spine. Holes and chunks were torn out of it, and the surface was coated with a fine layer of brown dust, but as she stepped closer she knew it was the same sofa. The very couch that her father had died in. The place where he spent his last few minutes.

Jane's boots crushed a discarded needle as she took a hesitant step forward. Moving closer at a slow speed, one tiny step at a time, she came to see the dark red blood stain evident beneath the dirt. Crying out, she lifted a hand to her mouth to hold back the sound as she gasped in shock. Flashbacks of her father's dead body slumped on that right corner flashed in her mind, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Jane felt fat tears leak from her eyes, running down her cheeks as she sobbed into her hand. She sank onto her knees, hunching her shoulders as she tried to move the image from her mind.

Her father. Pale. Bruised. Bleeding. The bullet hole black and dark in the middle of his skull execution-style. Blood everywhere.

The man. A black coat. Hood around his head. Gun in his hand. Smile on his face. That taunting tone of his as he left her there to deal with her father's body.

Jane's hand scraped across broken glass as she fell forward, catching herself before she could fall onto the floor completely. She cried out, her body shaking as tears streamed down and fell onto the ground. She cried for her father, her mother, Mamsy, Falcone, Bruce, Rebecca. Most of all, she cried for herself. Loud choking sobs that echoed through the empty apartment eerily as she dug her hands into her hair, pulling out her hair as she rocked back and forth, eyes opening to land on the horror of the place where her father died. Where he had been tortured, abused within an inch of his life before dying in such a degraded manner.

"I made him pay," she whispered to herself. She felt like she was saying the words to her father. Jane could see him clearly, sitting before her now as she cried and cried and cried. "I made him pay." She hugged herself, leaning into her own body as she tried to bring comfort. It didn't help. Jane still felt as if she was being ripped to shreds. Everything in her life had gone so wrong. Everyone had left her. Taken from her, leaving her with nothing but herself. Jane felt that control slip from her hands, landing in a mess on the floor and blending with the trash coating the surface.

An arm wrapped around her, curving across the width of her shoulder blades, pulling her into the chest of whomever it belonged to. Surprised, Jane gasped and turned to face her visitor. She already knew who it was though by his cologne, and when her eyes met Bruce's warm ones she nearly crumbled again. Falling against him, she curled into his chest as he pulled her into his lap. One of her arms wrapped around his back, the other a tight fist at his shoulder. Burying her head against his chest, she sobbed even harder into him, grateful for the feel of his strong arms as they fully wrapped around her.

He sat on the floor, pulling her to rest in his lap. Stroking her hair, he let her sob into him, not caring that she was ruining his white button-down shirt even more. He didn't seem to mind. Bruce let her crumble into him. Her rock. Her grounding against the tidal wave of emotions she felt.

"How did you know where to find me?" She asked against his chest once her sobs died down. The room was quiet again, Jane staring out the window behind Bruce's shoulder. Her eyes traced the jagged edges of the unclean break wondering who had done it and why. Who else had lived here besides her? What kind of lives did they have? Did this place have as many sorrowful feelings and memories as it did for her?

"I have my ways," he said and soothed her hair. Bruce tightened his grip and she shifted a little. "I hope you don't mind."

She shook her head against his chest. "Not right now. I really…needed you."

"I'm here. I always will be." Bruce pressed his lips to her forehead and she closed her eyes. Sighing, she rested her head on his shoulder. He really did have the best hugs. In his arms right now, the emotions had been leaked out and left her feeling exhausted. She was tired, but she felt safe. Warm and secure now. Such a strange emotion for the place she was in. "I know you were upset when you left the restaurant-"

"No," she broke him off, sitting up in his arms to look him in the eyes. "Please don't apologize. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. I see that now." Jane had realized that Bruce hadn't left her. He cared immensely for her. It was the only reason he was right here holding her. He had come and found her. Bruce had proven to her that she wasn't alone in the world, no matter what she thought. That one thing meant the world to her. More than…more than the trust that he had betrayed. By holding her tightly and letting her cry into his shoulder, he proved himself to her a much better man than she ever thought possible. Jane had embarrassed him in front of a huge crowd of people, damaged his pride, and slapped him before storming away. She had acted like a child, and she did regret that.

"I won't pry into your private life anymore." Bruce said with conviction, looking at her fully as to portray that he was telling the truth this time. He wouldn't break this vow. He wouldn't hurt her like that again. "I promise."

Jane smiled faintly, lifting a hand to trace his sharp jawline. "Thank you."

"So this is where you grew up?" Bruce asked. Reaching for her, he encircled her hand in his, engulfing it almost completely. Jane looked around the space again, turning her head as she squeezed his hand. The two were standing now in the center of the living room, kitchen, and dining area. Vastly different from his own manor, Jane wondered briefly what Bruce could be thinking right now.

"Yeah. It is." She replied softly, then turned to watch his face as he took in. "It's kind of…fallen apart a little. But it was home for eighteen years. Come on, I'll show you my old bedroom." She tugged him and the two walked to the door that led to her room. Gingerly, Jane pushed the door open, half expecting it to fall off of the rusted hinges as it creaked. A mattress was on the floor, much like it had been when she lived here, but she didn't know if it was hers or not. As she stepped into the room, Jane realized that the inhabitants hadn't taken down her childish drawings on the wall. She had tried to spruce up the dingy, close-like space with her pictures when she was very young. Once she grew older, she couldn't bring herself to tear them down.

"I slept in here. It looks basically the same." Jane said. The two of them took up most of the space. A small rectangular window provided the only light, and Jane eyed the space. Gods it had been such a long time since she slept here. It was eternity, yet only ten years ago. She had lived in this room longer than she had out of it, but it still seemed almost foreign to her. The apartment didn't feel like home. Then again, it never really had either. Not after her mother left. Once that happened, everything just fell apart. In fact, it was in this room that she had the last look on her mother. She tucked her in, said she loved her, and then vanished. What kind of mother did that to their child?

Bruce was silent beside her, but she felt his eyes watching her, gauging her emotions heavily as she took in the bedroom. Swallowing, Jane wordlessly pulled him out of the room. She didn't want to venture into her father's bedroom. He rarely went in there anyway. Too many memories of her mother, his wife, that left the both of them behind and set off a chain of events that led to his exact point. Funny how things worked out that way. If her mother hadn't left, Jane wouldn't have had to join the mob. Therefore, she wouldn't have met Bruce. The one person in her life who hadn't left her alone.

Jane took him to Mamsy's apartment next. He already knew what happened, so she didn't have to say anything. She really only wanted to see it for herself, see the exact place where her life had begun to change so drastically for her. It had all began in her apartment, but Mamsy's had been the catalyst, the true starting point of Jane's life.

There were no bloodstains in this apartment. Only more trash and useless things.

Bruce and Jane eventually left the third floor, he leading her this time as they carefully made their way down the stairs. Once they were safely outside, Bruce turned her around to look at him. He searched her face, his hands on her shoulders. "Are you okay?" He asked softly.

Jane took in a deep breath before replying, "Yeah. I think so."

**Such a sad chapter. Gah. I'm ready for it to get happier-well, as happy as this story can get-writing emotional scenes it always hard. **

**Don't worry. There will be a little, uh, _reward_ next chapter. Thanks to those who review/favorite/follow! It means so so so so much!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Posting a little early, but it'll be okay. I've started the third part of "Shattered" and the first chapter was 8,246 words...so...looks like there will be bigger chapters. Hehe. And that means longer time frames between posting :( Don't know which is better, you know? Thanks so much for reviewing/favoriting/following! It means SO MUCH. If you have any questions, feel free to ask in the reviews or PM me.**

**And, I uh, really like this chapter...**

* * *

Jane curled up with Bruce in the backseat of the car, too content to move as she draped her leg over his. He held her closely to his chest like he did earlier. Running his hand soothingly up and down her arm, the two sat in the running car, enjoying the fell of each other's touch and the heater. Bruce had parked in an abandoned parking lot near the apartment when Jane asked him to. She didn't want to go back to her apartment. Not yet. For some reason, she just wanted Bruce to keep touching her and holding her tightly against his chest. She felt safe here, the world fading away until it was just the two of them.

When they were like this, Jane really did feel as if they were the last two people on the planet. Alone and unbothered by their day to day lives. Their responsibilities that they chose to burden themselves with. Using each other as a safe haven, they both fed off of the security they provided one another. Jane valued his strong arms around her much like he valued the strength of her body against his, warm and soft in some places yet hard in others. Jane reveled in the look in his eyes when he gazed at her much like he adored the way she seemed to fold against him naturally. Cuddling there, it was perfect. The cramped compartment did nothing to diminish the fact that they were content to just sit there for eternity, molded together into one.

Jane placed the fingers of her right hand on the line of buttons running down his white shirt. She played with them absentmindedly, just like she had with the salt shakers at the café. Even though that had been a scant few hours earlier, it felt like a week had passed since then. Bruce and she had fallen out, Jane never thinking that they would ever be able to recoup from that argument. That he would never earn her trust again. She had been quick to push him aside like the others. Grouping Bruce into the other class of people who had left her throughout her life.

But she had been too quick to judge. He hadn't left her. Bruce had come back. Once he had been ready to apologize, she didn't want to hear it. She didn't need to. Having already gauged his remorse from his eyes and the weight of him around her as she cried into him, Jane was quick to push everything bad away. She realized that as he held her she needed him. She needed him to help her pick up the pieces of her life, much like he had numerous other times since they came into contact.

It was crazy. _They _were crazy. Choosing to care for one another more than they should. Jane knew that it was dangerous, but she was done worrying about it. All of her reservations about Bruce and her feelings were tossed to the wind. She no longer wanted to care about what would happen in the future – she would deal with that when it came. Jane wanted to be looked after just like everyone else. And, she wanted to look after someone else as well. Jane didn't want to fight the battles that lay ahead alone, facing innumerable odds that were too much to bare for one person. Even someone like her needed help, she realized. She wanted Bruce to be the one to help. Bruce and Jane made a great team together. While she was a little fearful that they would distract each other from what they needed to do in Gotham, Jane realized that sometimes, you just have to live for yourself. It wasn't selfish. Just a basic fact. Somehow, everything would turn out right in the end.

Bruce placed his softening grip on the ridge of her ponytail, and Jane looked upwards at him as he slowly dragged the holder down her hair. He freed it, tossing the elastic to the side before running his touch along her now-freed hair. A few strands fell in her face and he brushed them aside, tucking them behind her ear like she normally did. "I like your hair down," he said to her vaguely, as if he was making an observation rather than starting a conversation. "It's beautiful." Bruce's eyes went to hers, watching her as she watched him. They twinkled like stars, holding behind them so much darkness yet now…they were soft. Captivating her, drawing her in with every second that they made eye contact. Jane knew she was responsible for that life coming back to them, that sparkle. Somehow she had brought Bruce out of the black hole that had become his life. Bruce had also saved her from the abyss as well, jumping after her to bring her out. He saved her life. In more ways than just the obvious. Jane had been on the warpath to self-destruction and horror before he intervened, and she would be forever grateful for that.

"You're beautiful." He whispered to her, urging a smile to spread across Jane's face at the flattery. To be called beautiful by someone like Bruce? Someone that she trusted more than anything in the world? It felt…wonderful. Amazing. This man who took her breath away with just his presence thought her the most magnificent woman. Even amongst the other prettier, more womanly faces of the upper class of Gotham – women with a lot higher social standings and money than some like her could ever dare to dream – Bruce still preferred her. Jane, a woman who grew up with nothing but death and sadness in a two bedroom dingy apartment in the Narrows, seemed to be the one who would snatch Bruce away. He had come to rely on her more than anyone. More than any of those others who had vied for his affections could ever hope to achieve.

Wordlessly, Jane lifted herself in his lap, rising onto her knees so that she was above him just a little. She gingerly placed her hands against his shoulders, the rock-hard muscle underneath her touch, supporting her as she moved to straddle him. Jane lowered herself back down, raised up a little so that she was eye-level with him. "You're beautiful," she repeated back to him in a hushed voice, almost as if she didn't want anyone else to partake in the moment they were sharing. She wanted _this _for just the two of them. No one else. No outside opinion or voice to be considered. Nothing could damage this for her.

Jane pressed her lips to his softly, almost as if she was only brushing them against him. His hands drew down her arms faintly, barely making contact with the fabric of her shirt as they went to her hips. Instead of grasping them, he wrapped them around her, drawing her closely to him and forcing her to move forward in his lap. A feeling of airy lightness fluttered through her, making her body tingle and shake as she breathed in the air he exhaled. His smell…mint and the cologne he wore made her senses climax when combined with the feel of his lips on hers. Soft, giving underneath her own as she kissed him.

She didn't want sex. Not at this moment. The fire was burning underneath her skin, the desire evident in her eyes. But Jane didn't want a moment this special - this comforting - to be overshadowed by the act that would only heighten the feelings of hunger they felt for each other. She wasn't lusting for his body right now…just his comfort and his heart. That was all she needed right now. Just the tenderness that he provided her. His embrace, his touch, his smell, and his taste. That was all she needed and all she wanted.

Jane brushed her lips along his cheekbone. Closing her eyes, she inhaled him in, and then rested her head on his shoulder. They were breathing in cycles: he would breathe in what she breathed out, and she would do the same with him. As if they both wanted all of each other, every little part. Everything. Jane didn't forget the hurt and pain that led to this blissfulness, and she knew that the two of them were always their best when they were at their worst. It was like when one was hurting, the other was instantly there to provide comfort. Jane melted into him, listening to his heartbeat. She felt so… at peace. More so than she ever had before.

Before she slipped into sleep, Jane wondered how long it would last.

* * *

Even without opening her eyes, Jane knew that she wasn't in her bed. This bed was far too soft, the sheets far too silky against the bare skin of her legs to belong to her. Too rich, too velvety for her to afford. Taking in a breath before she sighed, Jane smelled Bruce's familiar cologne and knew instantly where she was. She smiled faintly and rolled over onto her stomach. Opening her eyes, she saw that the sun had yet to rise, but the sky outside was lightening from the darkness of the night through the wall of windows. Bruce must have brought her to his apartment instead of her own. Which was fine. She liked his bed, but she liked it even more when he was there.

Jane was glad, though, that he was out in Gotham. She knew where he was – patrolling the streets as Gotham's faithful knight, protecting those that couldn't protect themselves. Laying her arm beneath the pillow, she stared out the slightly ajar door that led to the balcony, a faint early morning wind causing the gossamer curtains to sway just slightly. The bedroom was far different from the one in his house, much more _Bruce_. Strong, sleek, modern with a faint touch of elegance. It was still just as expensive looking, but a far cry from the decorative and stuffy design of the Manor.

She pulled the comforter up to her chin, blocking out the chill. What was she wearing, anyway? Lifting the sheets, she peeked under and could faintly make out the fabric and feel of a pair of boxers as well as one of Bruce's shirts. Of course. She smiled, putting the blankets back down. Bruce seemed to like it when she wore his clothes. Stifling a girlish giggle, she rolled over onto her side so that she could look out the window some more. Somehow, Jane had an instinct that Bruce would come through that door directly to her. She didn't know why, but it seemed his style. He always preferred windows for dramatic entrances, and the balcony door was kind of like a window, right? Proving that by visiting her apartment only through her bedroom window, except for yesterday morning when he had entered through the door. Jane had to admit, it did have a certain flair to it. Besides, Bruce was always one for the dramatics. The guy dressed up as a fucking bat to fight crime, a little entering through the window was just icing on the cake.

Stretching out her legs, Jane moved to bury her face in the pillow before rocking back, trying to wake up fully. She wanted to catch Bruce coming in, see what he would do when he realized she was awake. Hopefully, he wasn't too worn out… Grinning devilishly, she brought one arm underneath her chin to play with the collar of the shirt a little, twirking the fabric a bit as she hummed a tune that came out of her head.

She heard Bruce before she saw him. His cape was noisy as it ruffled when he landed on the balcony, dropping from somewhere above. The silhouette of his armor and cape were outlined against the slowly brightening sky behind him as he opened the door softly, not knowing that she was awake. He stepped inside the bedroom, closed the door, and lifted his hands to remove his helmet. Jane watched, not saying anything until he turned around to the bed.

"Hi." She said sitting up in the bed and letting the covers drop to reveal the shirt and boxers beneath. He already knew what she was wearing – had probably dressed her himself. Still, she couldn't help but smile as his eyes wandered her form visible through the thin material of the white button down and the expanse of her legs that disappeared underneath the sheets, seemingly going on forever. She bent her knees, drawing them a little closer to her chest as she rested on her arm.

Bruce set the helmet down on the dresser and walked towards her. He sat on the edge, reached forward and gripped the sheet that still covered some of her. Keeping his eyes on hers, Jane drew in a sharp, excited breath as he tugged the silky sheets away, exposing the length of her legs to his eyes as he dropped his gaze to them, tossing the sheet away. Softly, he grasped one of her thin ankles and tugged it down as well, breaking it away from her chest until she understood what he was doing. Jane slipped both of her legs down until they were lying fully down on the bed. His eyes ran down them and she watched him carefully, his guarded expression not giving away what he was thinking. She took in his unmasked face with the armor of his suit, the fine line between Batman and Bruce blurring altogether when he was like this.

"I see you didn't take off my shirt," he noticed, raising his eyes to hers. Jane, who had been admiring the way his body looked in the suit, looked up at him from underneath her eyelashes. Lifting an arm, she played with the top button, allowing it to slip through the clasp almost as if by accident before she went to the other one, running her nail along the tiny circle.

Jane shrugged innocently before tilting her chin up, undoing another button. "Maybe I like wearing your shirt." Bruce's eyes darkened and looked to her fingers. She undid yet another one. "But if you want it back…maybe we could work out an _arrangement_," she pursed, suddenly feeling more than confident that he would oblige her. Ever since they had become intimate that one time, Jane had wanted him more and more. The fire hadn't been quenched, only grew stronger and stronger within her. She knew without a doubt it had done the same with Bruce as well.

Bruce snapped his eyes up to her as she began to smile slowly, undoing the very last button. She didn't peel off the garment though, letting it stay in place to hide her bra-clad chest and stomach beneath. "What kind of arrangement are you proposing?"

"I think you know exactly what kind of arrangement I'm talking about." Jane ran one of her finger along the inner flap of the shirt, peeling it back to reveal her left hip. Lifting one of her knees, she let it fall to the side as if to coax him a bit more. "You'll have to _earn _it back or else I'll just keep it."

"Hmm…" Bruce ran his touch along her inner thighs, sending her to a slowly burning furnace beneath her skin as her thighs threatened to clench together at the simple stroke. He looked down at his hands as he mockingly contemplated her suggestion. "Maybe I don't want the shirt back."

"Oh I think you do." She remarked then peeled back the other fold, exposing the width of her hips to his eyes. The boxers hung low along her waist, clinging to the bones and separating from the flat, hardened muscle of her abs. "You see, I might destroy your shirt, and I don't think you want to see that."

"True," he nodded slowly and shifted on the bed to rise up on his knees. "I do like my clothes un-destroyed." Bruce moved so that he was in between her legs, grasping her calves and pulling them apart further from each other than she originally had them. Dropping her legs, she let them slack against the sheets as Bruce went to remove his suit.

"Don't," she said with a wicked grin. He looked at her in a bit of confusion, hands freezing on the clasps of the cape. "Keep it on." His eyes turned black with desire, and the guard he had up dropped just long enough for him to smile widely at her suggestion. Quickly, he gained back his control, the smile disappearing just as quickly as it appeared. Bending forward, he touched the top edge of the boxers before pulling them down at a painstakingly slow pace, letting his knuckles brush against her thighs as he tugged them down. Jane lifted herself up on her elbows, watching him as he took them off of her, tossing them behind him somewhere. Her underwear came off next, and before she knew it she was bare beneath him except for her shirt.

Playfully, she closed her legs with a coy smile, templing her knees together a little as she leaned back on her forearms. Jane eyed him dangerously, urging him to go further and give her what she wanted. What her body craved. She wanted him to touch her, to kiss her, to press his body to hers. Jane needed him now to put out the flames that roared throughout her, centralizing at the top center of her legs.

Bruce placed his gloved fingers at her ankles. She shivered as he slowly drew them upwards up to her knees. Grasping her kneecaps, he pried them apart, and Jane naturally opened her legs to allow him access to her. Instead of moving up her body, Bruce lowered himself onto the mattress, lying on his stomach. She gasped slightly; parting her lips with surprise as he ever so faintly pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh. No one had ever done this to her before. No one had ventured down to that territory and Jane was filled with a little apprehension as well as, she had to admit, a wild wantonness.

His eyes flashed up to hers as she watched him wide-eyed. Jane didn't know what to do, so she sat there, raising her knees up a little as she bent her legs. He kept his gaze locked with hers as he scraped her protruding hipbone with his teeth and then leisurely nibbled on the tender skin just beneath it. She hissed just slightly but found that she fucking _liked _his little bites there. That expanse of skin around her waist had always been sensitive, and when Bruce's lips and teeth made contact with it….it felt euphoric almost, acting as coal to her inner fire.

Bruce ran his hands upwards to grasp her hips solidly. Grounding her, pushing the lower half of her body into the ground as his face ventured down until he was _right there_. The coolness of his breath fanned her, sending a pleasurable sensation against her heated flesh, and she almost whimpered from the need to have him do something to her. She was waiting impatiently, wanting that sweet feeling right then. Bruce smiled at her anticipation, bending his face forward slightly as Jane held her breath, waiting to see how it would feel. She was insanely curious since she had never been pleasured in that fashion.

Disappointment washed through her as he placed a small kiss on the inside of her thigh, missing that area where she needed him so desperately. She grimaced down at him and tried to convey how tired of his teasing she was. "Fuck Bruce, if you're going to do something then _do it _already." She snapped. Bruce chuckled against her skin, vibrating it as he shook his head slowly, and eyes still on her.

"Good things come to those who wait, Jane."

Jane growled, opening her mouth to speak, when Bruce liked up her slit, one long line from bottom to top. Words stopped in her throat, nothing coming out as it dropped in shock. _Fuck_. Bruce snickered at her silence. "That's what I thought." He said, then placed his lips at the top of her slit. Jane whimpered as he slid a gloved finger inside of her, the fabric causing him to fill her a little more than usual, and she clenched around him as he brought it back out before pushing it in again. His tongue ran up her length again.

He moved his other hand from her hip to rest at the top of her legs, holding her down with his palm as his fingers fell over the edge towards his mouth. Jane felt him spread her folds open, and she gasped as his tongue ran along the inside of her. "Oh fuck," she meweled, her strength failing her as she collapsed completely on the bed. One of her hands went directly to her own hair, pulling it a little once Bruce began tracing small circles around the little nub. It sent waves and waves of pleasure throughout her, like a sonic boom bursting through her body from that one point. Her other hand shot through his hair, gripping the loose strands around her fingers and holding him in place. It was as if she was afraid he was just going to leave there, detach himself and make her writhe in agony at the loss of the intense pleasure.

She tugged his hair a little and Bruce growled against her. Jane moaned at the vibrations the guttural sensations gave her and pulled him back to her, urging him to move on. She could feel his eyes on her, taking her in as she arched her back, pressing her hips against his lips and tongue as he continued his sweet, relentless torture. Bruce flattened his tongue and pushed it against her nub and Jane cried out, her jaw clenching and unclenching as she tried to maintain some sense of control over what noises came out of her mouth. But every time he did those little unexpected moves, it seemed that her voice had a mind of its own, completely betraying her and letting loose.

She groaned shamelessly loud as he pushed two fingers inside of her, her walls snapping around him tightly as he reached them in, sheathing almost completely inside. Curling them upwards, he brushed against one of those spots that sent white bolts of passion through her and made her see stars like she was in outer space. "Please," she begged as her eyes slid closed, the words falling out of her mouth in a whisper yet tinged with a desperation that she couldn't comprehend fully at the moment. "Bruce."

Bruce lifted his head from her, and she moaned in agitation and the loss of him against her. His fingers were still inside of her though they had stilled. "Look at me, Jane," he commanded and kissed the skin of her hips faintly. "You need to look."

Jane shakily moved her hand from her hair, pressing it to the mattress as she sat up, body quivering as she opened her eyes. Once more she was struck by the appearance of his face with the suit, Bruce Wayne and Batman merging into one person. The sun was slowly rising, a beam of light making a tiny sliver of the black suit stand out. Her eyes drew to him, holding his gaze as strongly as she could as she gripped his hair, tugging him back down to her, forcing his head back towards her selfishly. He didn't have to if he didn't want to. Bruce could have refused what she needed so fucking much. Thankfully, he didn't, and went back to the massaging motions of his tongue on her nub. Holding him tightly to her, she bowed her back upwards, creating an arch that would probably give her the worst fucking backache if she wasn't already so flexible. Thank fuck for the gym.

Struggling to keep her eyes open, she watched with a trembling breath as he fed from her, lapping her up as if she was the best thing he had tasted. Her hips bucked against him of their own accord and from her throat spewed countless whimpers and mewls of pleasure as she took in the erotic sight of Bruce tasting her. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." She hissed her favorite curse, removing her hand from his hair to help her balance a little more. Withdrawing her knees, she clamped them around his head, throwing them over his shoulders as she grinded into him. She bit her lip, eyes rolling into the back of her head as he applied more pressure.

With one last brush of her fingers against her sweet spot, Jane came with a cry. She practically screamed his name, arms weakly giving out beneath her as she fell back onto the bed, her legs tightening around him as she rode out her orgasm. Uncontrollable shivers racked her body as her eyes squeezed closed. Stars danced in her eyes, lightening shooting through her veins after pleasure rolled through her entire body. She grabbed at the fabric of the sheets to keep her grounded, afraid that she would float into the air from feeling so lightweight and free.

Once she recovered, Jane sighed in content, slowly opening her eyes to see Bruce wipe his chin, smiling down at her like he _knew_ he was the boss. He was damn pleased with himself. Jane let him soak in the arrogance, not knowing how she could very well debunk that belief. Bruce _was_ the fucking boss in her opinion. He could be anything he wanted to be as long as he kept giving her those intense feelings of ecstasy. Hell, _she _would be anything. Just let him keep fucking doing what he was doing.

She felt his hands on her hips, and she was dragged down the bed. The fabric bunched around her torso, her shirt riding up and exposing her stomach. Opening her eyes, she saw Bruce's eyes trailed on the shirt. Before she could take it off herself, he reached forward and ripped it open, the one button that she hadn't undone flying off and clinging somewhere on the floor. Jane's breath hitched in her throat as she felt him along her inner thigh. Somehow, he had managed to free his cock without taking off the suit. He grabbed one of her legs, hitching it up and she wrapped it around his waist, sitting up just slightly while leaning on her hand to get in an easier position to press her lips to his. Sucking his bottom lip in between her teeth, she nibbled on it just slightly before backing away, letting it slide out from her hold on it as she stared at him.

Jane let herself be pushed down onto the bed as Bruce spread the shirt open, displaying the white lace bra she wore. He was sitting up a little, leaning on her hips and putting a delicious pressure there. Her eyes slid shut as he ran his hands up her hips to her stomach, traveling upwards until they reached the cups of her bra. Squeezing her breasts slightly, Jane arched her back into his touch a little, biting the inside of her cheek as he moved his hands upwards to her shoulders, then let them fall back down the path he had made earlier until they reached her hips again. Gripping them harder, he yanked her down a little more, moving her closer to his hips as he pulled them up just a little for a better angle.

Without warning, he slammed into her, Jane's eyes popping open as she gasped loudly in surprise. It didn't hurt – she was far too aroused. The motion just caused him to sink deeply into her, pressing that spot reaching deep inside her that caused her breath to hitch and her toes to curl. Bruce pulled out, and then flexed his hips again, jamming back inside her with one strong, swift motion. Jane let her inner muscles clamp down on him as he drew out as if to force him to stay inside, and he closed his eyes at the feel of her tight, wet warmth.

She reached up and grabbed his shoulder, yanking him down to her. Their chests connected, the cool and flexible armor a stark contrast to her heated skin as she angled her hips upwards to meet his hard thrusts. The last time they had been intimate it had been slow, drawn out, prolonging the pleasure for the both of them. A sweet kind of love, almost tender. Now, though, Jane knew they were fucking. The two just wanted to feel that desperate release again, and as Bruce kept withdrawing she tried to clench around him as hard as possible. Eyes locked and breathing ragged, Bruce and Jane met each other thrust for thrust, grind for grind as they sped to euphoria, keeping up with each other like the competitors they were.

"Fuck!" She hissed, breaking eye contact to arch her back as he hit that sweet spot harder than he had before, sucking in a deep breath as she squeezed her legs around his waist. Pulling him in to her, Jane closed her eyes and practically screamed as he hit it again just as hard as before.

As her muscles tightened even more around him, Bruce groaned. "_Dammit _Jane." His name leaving her lips in that whisper and the hanging of his head, as well as the high she already had, made her burst into exhilaration and pleasure like never before. Jane screamed out his name, wringing the sheets in her one hand and clutching his shoulder with a death grip with the other. Her body fell back completely on the mattress. Bruce followed quickly after, grunting with his release as he clutched her hip beneath him again. Jane felt her legs slack off of him, one falling and landing on the bed. He rested on her, but lifted his weight with an arm next to her head. As the two of them came down from their highs, Bruce rested his head on her clothed shoulder and Jane maneuvered her hand from his shoulder and onto his hair, curling the mused strands with her fingers as she gasped for breath.

At some point, Jane drifted off to sleep, her hands still in Bruce's hair as he rested on top of her. She didn't feel Bruce shift off of her roughly two hours later, didn't feel her hand be placed gently on her chest. Nor did Jane become aware of Bruce stroking her hair out of her face, the gloves brushing against her forehead.

But what she missed out on most of all was the loving gaze Bruce gave her as he did these things.

* * *

Jane woke when the sun's rays broke through the curtain onto her face, the bright light blinding her as she opened her eyes. _Damn_. She closed her eyes instantly, rolling over to the other side to go back to asleep when she bumped into something hard. What was that? An arm dropped from her waist, curling around her stomach and bringing her up against whomever it was that was cuddled up against her, spooning with her on the mattress. The fuck?

Oh, she realized once her mind became coherent again. Of course. She was at Bruce's place. In Bruce's bed. After having sex with Bruce. And now cuddling with Bruce.

Grinning happily, she stilled her body from moving anymore, contently pressing herself against his body as she intertwined her legs with his. She put her hand over his gently so she wouldn't wake him. Jane still wore his shirt, and it was draped loosely across her, still unbuttoned. Not wearing any underwear or boxers, she could feel Bruce – also bare – against her. Brushing her hair out of her face with her free hand, she struggled to calm herself down at feeling his bare skin pressed against her. Did he always sleep in the nude? Maybe he had been too tired after their little tryst to get dressed.

She could stay here all day. For all eternity. Wrapped up in to the serenity that was Bruce's arms and not give a care for what was going on in the world. It was not to be though. Just after she woke up, nature called, and she slowly maneuvered out of Bruce's grip. He was far too tired to realize that she was moving, and she sighed gratefully when he didn't wake up. Fuck, the guy had to be tired. There was no telling how much sleep the man was actually able to get. Shaking her head, she thought about just how much Bruce gave up for the people of Gotham, and they didn't even know it.

Jane took a quick shower and then rummaged through Bruce's shirts until she pulled out a black button-down. What could she say? She had a certain thing for them. Going back into the bedroom, she grabbed her bra and found her other clothes folded neatly on the bureau. She put on the bra and shirt she wore yesterday, as well as the jeans and boots, layering it with Bruce's shirt. Rolling up the sleeves, she looked back to the sleeping man who had more than her adoration in the palm of his hands. Before she could delve further into that train of thought, her phone buzzed on the bureau. Jane quickly grabbed it and left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Rachel. What did she want? Flipping the phone open, she pressed it to her ear as she flopped down on the couch, kicking her feet up on the coffee table. "Hello?" She asked, shaking out her drying hair with her hands to get extra moisture off.

"Jane! Oh goodness, I haven't had the chance to talk to you in _months_," Rachel yelled into the phone, causing Jane to wince and hold it away from her ear. "How are you? Gordon told me everything – why didn't you trust me enough? I mean….gosh. You were working for Falcone and Gordon? I knew that you were working for Falcone, well, I didn't really know but I had my suspicions about you when you were with Crane that day in the courtroom, but I never would have guessed everything else and I –"

"Rachel. Shut up." Jane said sternly, and the young woman instantly stopped talking. "I didn't tell you because I didn't know you. I normally don't go around and tell _everything _to _everyone _that I come into contact with, even I know that they're not bought off by other people. Just…calm down, okay?"

"Oh. Sorry," Rachel mumbled, and Jane heard her speaking to someone else. "Listen, I have a lunch with a friend of mine that I would really like for you to meet. Do you think that you can meet me around one at Cammie's? It's a little restaurant on Fifth Street. I think that we also need to get together some other time and talk about _other things_ as well." _Like Bruce._ Jane heard the unspoken words. Well, if Jane thought she was going to spill everything she could fucking forget that shit.

"I'm not going to say anything about him, Rachel." Jane replied sternly as she curled a few strands around her fingers, her eyes flicking over to Bruce's bedroom door where he slept. "It's not my place to say anything, and I wouldn't want him to do the same to me. If you want to know anything, you'll just have to ask him."

Rachel sighed on the other end of the phone call. "Fine. I just fell so bad, you know? I mean, I spent all that time judging him and being a complete –"

"Bitch?" Jane offered.

"Yeah. A bitch. I almost don't know what I would say if I saw him again. I mean, I know I saw him after that night, but still. It's so weird, seeing him on the news and knowing that it's _him _and everything." Jane was silent as Rachel huffed. A long pause permeated the phone call. "Anyway, about lunch?"

"Sure. Yeah, I'll meet you there." Jane said off-handedly, wondering what she could do within the next two hours. "See you then Rachel. Bye."

"Bye." Jane snapped the phone closed and slid it into her pocket. With a sigh, she leaned her head against the couch, looking up at the ceiling.


	9. Chapter 9

As Jane slumped on the sofa, staring out the floor-to ceiling windows across from the place she sat, the door opened behind her. Without turning she knew that it was Bruce. Who else would it be? He was the only person in the apartment besides her. "It's about time you woke up," she spoke flatly, almost as if she were bored with his company. Feeling a hand caress her now-dry hair, she closed her eyes and leaned into the gentle touch. Bruce seemed to love playing with her hair for some reason, not that she minded. Jane quite liked it too, and practically purred in appreciation as he brushed it over one shoulder.

"Sorry. _Someone _decided to keep me up a little later than normal last night." Bruce jabbed. His hand left her hair and she groaned in disapproval. Lifting her head, Jane looked behind her to see where he was, and was caught by surprise when he sat down on the couch beside her, the cushions moving a little under his weight. Bruce wore only a pair of gray sweatpants, and Jane couldn't help the light smile as she gazed over his muscled form, taking in his naked chest much like he had her.

"You didn't seem to be complaining much." Jane moved to lie on her side slightly so she could face him better. Propping her arm up on the back of the couch, she rested her hand in her palm and looked at him quizzically, almost daring him to rebut her statement.

Bruce moved his hand to her hair again, eyes going to his fingers wrapping and curling around her strands while hers stayed directly on his. "Well, my mouth was a bit preoccupied. Just in case you didn't notice or anything."

"Oh _I _noticed all right." She snickered and swung her legs off the floor and settled them into his lap. "In fact, I think I like you better when your mouth is _preoccupied _as you so eloquently put it." Crossing her ankles, Jane gave him a challenging glance. She tilted her head up and moved her arm so that she could put her fingers in his hair, musing the already muffled flop that it was lying in. Yep, he fucking had sex hair. Jane had to admit that it looked damn good on him to. Could it stay that way? All disheveled and _hot_?

"I noticed that you noticed," he grinned. Pulling her head to his, he brushed his lips across hers before speaking again. "You weren't exactly _quiet _about it." As he kissed her more forcefully, he strengthened his grip on her hair to pull her closer to him. Jane was leaning forward, a position that might be uncomfortable if she wasn't entranced by the feel of his lips on hers.

Jane pushed his head away slightly so that she could suck in a much-needed breath. "You didn't seem to mind the noise either."

"You're right," Bruce agreed and kissed her again before pulling her hair, forcing her head to tilt back. The length of her neck was exposed, stretching as she closed her eyes. Feeling his breath on the skin just beneath her ear, she shivered. She bit her lip as he kissed the tender, delicate skin there. "I don't mind your noisiness. In fact, I enjoy it immensely," he mumbled against her as he let his lips travel down the side of her neck.

"I'm sure you do." Jane tightened her grip in his hair, locking him into position at the base of her throat. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she moaned just slightly. Fuck, he had to stop now or else she would have an embarrassing hickey there. Rachel – and not to mention Rebecca – would be astutely curious if that happened. When she went back to the apartment, Rebecca would probably ask her why she hadn't come home that night anyway. Damn she really didn't want to discuss her sex life with Bruce to her. She was _not _looking forward to that conversation.

Jane dejectedly pushed Bruce's head away. Shifting her legs in his lap, she swung her body around to straddle him, sitting above him just slightly. They still made eye contact, and Jane bent her back outwards as she kissed the sharp lines of Bruce's cheekbones. Bruce let go of her hair, letting his hands roam down her sides until they came to her hips. Gripping them roughly, he pulled her forward into his lap, causing her knees to fall and for her to land completely into his lap. Jane had better access to his neck this time. _She _would be the one to do the marking now.

As her hands found purchase in his hair, her lips were on the thin skin just below his ears, a place that she realized he rather liked when he let out a little moan when she first passed by it. Remembering that he quite liked it when she used her teeth, she scraped them a little against him. She smiled against his skin when his grip tightened on her hips. If he squeezed any harder she would definitely have bruises there. "What's wrong, Bruce?" She asked innocently against his skin, taking a bigger nibble. "Not so talkative now. Don't have anything else you want to make fun of?"

"Make fun of? No. But perhaps we can see how loud I can really make you get." He brought her hips down into his lap and grinded them against him, making her feel his hardness even through the fabric of her jeans. Jane nipped him especially hard before falling back, lifting herself up straight as she brought her hands to wrap around his neck.

Smiling bashfully, she shook her head at him as he grinned. "You're still not tired from last night?"

"Jane, I could _never _get tired of you," he said and leaned forward to kiss her. Her smile grew huge against his lips at his comment. His flattery made her confidence and head swell dangerously so. Parting her lips, she allowed him to slip his tongue into her mouth, but didn't back down from his attempt to dominate the kiss. He wasn't going to get her _that _easily.

Jane shifted her hips against his, pushing down into his lap and making torturously slow circles with them, eliciting a groan from Bruce at the sensations she gave him. She moved her mouth away from his and put her forehead up to his. "Can't," she breathed as she stared into his eyes, pushing away and leaning back in his lap. She dropped her hands from her shoulders and clamped them on her thighs. "I have to go eat lunch with Rachel. She called when you were sleeping."

"Then cancel. I want you _here_, right now." He pulled her hips forward to his and then ran his hands up the fabric of her shirt, raking his nails lightly on her lower back. She shivered, cursing him for knowing her weak areas. Jane, for some reason, was extremely sensitive to touch around her waist. It ran like a circle just below her hips. How had Bruce managed to find those areas so quickly?

Reaching back, she grasped his exposed forearms and tugged them away with a little difficulty. She couldn't think properly when he was fucking touching her that way. "I can't do that Bruce. She wants me to meet someone or tell me something. It was something like that, I can't really remember." Jane dropped Bruce's hands on the sofa and leaned forward to give him a peck on the lips. "Sorry. I really wouldn't mind staying here…"

"Then come back right after lunch." He whispered against her lips. "I can wait a little while."

"I really need to check up on Rebecca and see if Maroni needs me to do anything. He's probably going to try to contact me later. Besides, _you _need to rest. You are probably exhausted." Jane poked him in the chest hard and then crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back once again in his lap so that only their legs and hips were touching.

"But I sleep better when you're around."

"Oh well. Looks like you'll have to settle for quantity over quality at the moment."

Bruce sighed, realizing that he lost his little battle. "I'm starting to think that you only wanted me for my body," he teased, faking a deep frown.

"Fuck. You caught me. Damn you, Bruce." Jane teased and gave him another light peck. "How'd you get so _smart_?"

"God-given talent." Bruce put his hands in her hair again, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss. She let him, uncrossing her arms and putting them to his muscular, bare chest. "It's not the only thing I'm talented at, though."

"You know, you're a cocky little bastard. I think I like you better when your mouth's preoccupied and you can't say stupid shit like that." Jane dug her nails into his chest to prove a point and laughed when he winced. She slipped off of his lap and put her feet on the floor, standing. Bruce's hair was sticking up everywhere and she leaned forward, brushing it down a little as she continued to giggle. "Your hair is fucked up."

"I wonder why?" Bruce grabbed her arm and pulled her down. Jane scrambled to catch herself on the head of the couch with both hand on either side of Bruce's face. Bruce kissed her again, and Jane kissed him back. Fuck she was going to be late for her lunch with Rachel. What time was it anyway? With a groan, she pulled herself away, backing up from Bruce so that he couldn't grab onto her again.

"I have to _go_," she insisted as he stood as well, mirroring her movements as she tried to get to the door. Swiping her phone off of the table, she stuck it into her back pocket and held her hands up. "Bruce!" She laughed as he quickly grabbed her, and yanked her back to him. Curling his arms around her back, he held her there securely so that she couldn't move."

"I don't remember _saying _you could go," he growled, bending down to kiss her. "Kind of rude for you to just leave, isn't it? Why do you want to go see Rachel anyway? I mean, she isn't nearly as interesting as I can be," he teased.

"That depends. Maybe Rachel and I are secret lovers and you're just someone that I'm trying to get money from or something." Jane snaked her arms from his grip and draped them around his neck, drawing herself closer to him as she pressed her lips to his.

"Are you sure you can't stay here?"

"Positive."

Bruce sighed and then let her go. "All right then. Don't get in too much trouble." Narrowing his eyes, he inspected her outfit. "Are you wearing my shirt?"

"Maybe I am." She smirked and backed away from him. Making her way towards the door, she said, "What are you going to do about it? Don't worry about me, Bruce. I only get into too much trouble when you're around."

* * *

When Jane got to the restaurant, Rachel was already there, talking to a blonde man who had his back turned from her. Was Rachel asking her to meet her new boyfriend or something? Quirking an eyebrow, Jane ignored the hostess and went straight for the table Rachel and the man were sitting at. She couldn't make out who it was from this angle, and she couldn't help but feel curious as to his identity. Who in the world persuaded Rachel to make her rounds around the dating world? Rachel was like Jane in a sense that she was devoted purely to her job at hand. It was one of the things that Jane admired about the young woman.

Even though she was blind and stupid – having actually believed Bruce's lie even after knowing him for years and years – Jane figured the woman had to have at least half a brain. She wasn't the Assistant Defense Attorney for nothing. Plus, the woman was virtually untouchable. No crime family had managed to either buy her off or scare her into submission. Her record was spotless, untouched by dirty hands. Rachel was either brilliant or very, very lucky. Probably a bit of both. Yeah, definitely a bit of both now that Jane thought about it a bit more.

Nearing the table, Jane swooped back a chair facing the wall so that she could look into the restaurant and plopped down. Eyes locking on the man sitting on her left, she recognized the face instantly. It was the guy that had his face plastered on billboards and on the sides of busses in Gotham. Harvey Dent. Jane knew the guy from when he worked in Internal Affairs for years – he didn't know her – and had even recommended him to Gordon in fishing out the dirty cops.

Bright blue, sharp eyes stared at her with a kind expression, a handsome, youthful face that had a slight tan next to the blonde hair that was styled carefully. Dent wore a crisp black suit and a blue undershirt, looking every bit as classy as Jane knew that he was. He looked like he belonged in a place like California rather than Gotham, but the guy was brilliant, and what was better, untouchable just like Rachel and Gordon. Jane remembered when Falcone had got the word back that Dent refused his money. Carmine had practically shouted until he was blue in the face. Anyone who could infuriate Falcone like that was automatically a friend of Jane's.

"Jane! Jane, this is –" Rachel began.

"Harvey Dent. The guy from the television commercials." Jane finished, smiling at Rachel before turning her attention back to the new Defense Attorney. "It's a pleasure. I'm Jane, a friend of Rachel's."

"I'm flattered, but the pleasure is all mine. Rachel's told me everything about you." Dent smiled at her, moving to shake her hand politely. Like she was a fucking politician or something. Jane's eyebrows shot up at his words and she snapped her head to Rachel.

"Oh? _Everything_?" Jane asked her. Surely Rachel didn't tell Dent about her 'criminal' past.

Rachel laughed uncomfortably. "Well, not everything," she assured Jane, smiling to broadly to Dent. "Jane here works with the police a lot. Or, at least, she used to." Jane really didn't give a damn if Dent knew about her or not, but she wanted to make sure that Rachel just didn't go around and toss out information to everyone. If she did it for Jane, what would stop her from doing the same with Bruce? To be honest, Jane was a lot more worried about Bruce's secrets than her own, especially now that she had nothing to hide from _him _anymore. Rachel didn't know that Jane was back with Maroni. Hell, Gordon didn't even know, so it wasn't as if she had a whole lot to worry about. Plus, Dent and Rachel had proven very strong on the lawful side of life, and Jane doubted that the ideals they held would change that quickly. If they had held out this long, they could hold out a bit longer. At least until she was finished with Maroni.

"I'm going to let you in on a little secret, Dent." Jane looked back to Dent, ignoring Rachel's eyes which were practically bursting out of the sockets. "I'm probably not who you think I am. Yeah, I worked with the cops, but not in the way you think." Dent gave her a questioning look, almost as if he was wondering about her sanity or some shit like that. He switched glances with Rachel. "I worked with Falcone for ten years, trading secrets to Gordon and Loeb for amnesty. Eventually, I also came into contact with Batman. Together, he and I were able to do what the police seemed unable to do – get Falcone behind bars."

Dent was speechless, staring at her with his mouth gaped open in disbelief. Jane could see that he was torn between wanting to believe her, yet at the same time struggling to believe the ludicrous aspect of the whole situation. Someone like _her_? Working for Falcone, Gordon, and Batman? Jane would have a hard time believing it if it hadn't actually happened. She placed her hands on the table in front of and cracked her neck, the tension there suddenly being relieved. With a sigh, she glanced around the restaurant for a waitress. Fuck, she was thirsty.

"So, uh, you…" Dent let out a breathy, short laugh as he sat up in the chair, "are telling me that you – you helped put _Falcone _behind bars? I knew Batman was involved, but didn't know that a civilian was." He gave Rachel another glance like he was waiting for someone to start laughing and say _Gotcha! _When he saw that Rachel, too, had a serious look upon her face, he went back to Jane. "And that you've _met_ Batman? You've actually met him?"

"Yeah," Jane shrugged as if it was no big deal. "The guy's kind of stiff though." _In more ways than one…_ She felt the blush creep up her neck and quickly cleared her throat, trying to dispel the sexual image that was forming in her mind involving Bruce, the Batsuit, and Bruce's wonderful mouth. Oh fuck, she was getting hot. "I mean, he's a nice guy and all, but not a people person."

Dent looked at her with an almost sense of wonder, as if she was like a fucking hero or something. "You've met Batman. Wow." Jane rolled her eyes and shifted down into the seat, slumping slightly. Of course he would be amazed at _that_. "It's great that you, you know, helped arrest Falcone and everything, but I've only known of Gordon ever having contact with him."

"Guess I'm special." Jane said offhandedly and then lifted her hand to wave a waitress over. The woman quickly came towards them when she spotted Jane, already withdrawing a pen and pad. "Hi," Jane said before the woman could open her mouth. "I'd just like whatever the soup of the day is and a coke please. I don't know about those two." She waved her hand between Rachel and Harvey. The two ordered and the woman left.

"So, Jane, how have things been between you and Bruce lately?" Rachel asked, trying to shift the focus off of Batman, something that she was obviously uncomfortable with. For some unknown reason, Rachel didn't seem to approve of Bruce's nighttime activities. Not that it was any of her fucking business in the first place. Sure, it would have been nice of one of the few Bruce chose to confide in would support him like Jane did, but no. Rachel seemed to think that the only right way to do it was the lawful way. Which Jane _might_ be able to understand if it wasn't so infuriating and so fucking corrupt in the first place.

"Great, actually. He and I both stay pretty busy, but we've managed." She didn't say anything about their fall-outs, or yesterday when she threw a drink in his face in front of numerous people outside of the restaurant. "You two should come over some time. I'm sure that he would love to meet you, Dent. He speaks fondly about your ideas for Gotham." Liar. Bruce hadn't said a damn thing about Dent. She was sure that Rachel probably knew it. The woman damn coughed at the comment. Jane gave her a sharp look.

"Sure. Maybe one day we can manage to get together for lunch or dinner," Dent spoke off-handedly. He probably didn't want to meet Bruce, possibly imagining him as a stuffy playboy that he came off as in the tabloids. Everyone thought that – even Jane before she knew better. Fuck, Rachel had believed the same thing. "Rachel and I are awfully busy a lot though. All of the cases coming in with some of the mob."

Interest piqued, Jane leaned forward. Anything about the mob was an interest to her. "Mob?"

"We're working on getting Maroni. We're having some problems though, needing someone that will squeal for him to seal our case."

Jane thought for a moment, lifting a hand to tap her chin with her forefinger. "Have you tried Maroni's nephew?" She asked, speaking about the short, curly-headed fuckhead that had tried to attack her the other day and failed miserably.

"His nephew? You mean Josh?" Rachel asked, her eyebrows narrowing a little in thought. "I don't think that's Maroni's real nephew." The waitress set their drinks and food in front of them, and Jane instantly began devouring her soup, suddenly feeling extremely hungry.

"Oh. Well I was beating the shit out of him so he probably thought it would make me stop." Dent choked on his coffee and Rachel gave her an inquiring look. "What? He was following me."

"Well then." Rachel said and stirred her own coffee. "That's certainly…interesting. Anyways, what about him? Do you think he would squeal?"

"Definitely. I know a squealer when I see them. The guy will do anything to save his own skin." Jane slurped another spoonful of her soup, enjoying the warm flavor on her palate. Damn did she love soup. If only she could cook like Rebecca, or at least, _cook _period. Her skills went as far as Ramen and microwavable meals. Anything more difficult than that would probably result in a burned down apartment building and a side of a few casualties. Finishing her soup, she pushed the bowl toward the center of the table. It hadn't been a very large bowl and Jane was still a little hungry. "I can probably get him for you."

"Really? That – that would be extremely helpful." Rachel started getting excited, a smile beaming across her face as she looked from Jane to Dent to back to Jane. Her voice was getting a little shriller, teaming with enthusiasm at perhaps getting a shot at bringing Maroni down. Two major mob members down in just a matter of months. Perfect. "We don't quite have the recourses for such a thing and I'm sure that if you were to talk to Gordon-"

"Gordon can't help me," Jane cut Rachel off, and then took a gulp of her drink. Setting the glass firmly down on the table, she licked her lips and sat back in the chair, catching Rachel's inquisitive look. With a sigh, Jane tilted the chair almost too far back, but managed to catch herself by grabbing onto the edge of the desk. Setting down, she looked at Dent and Rachel. "I've already talked it over with Loeb and he isn't in for the idea of me going back into the mob at all."

"What!" Rachel exclaimed loudly. A few of the patrons around them turned to give the table of three strange looks, and Dent smiled apologetically at them with the good-guy charm that he naturally possessed. Fucking genius, Jane couldn't help but notice. Dent knew the charismatic air he had about him, using it to his advantage to soothe over things like this. At any other time if they weren't with Dent, people would still watch as Rachel huffed and puffed a few obscenities, her face growing redder as she twisted a napkin in her hands. But no, not with Dent there to seduce the people into thinking that there was nothing going on. He had that 'nice-guy' image going for him. Something that even Jane found herself being pulled into believing. With a smile and face like that, what kind of horrors could he do? Seriously.

"That's absurd. If he was willing to do it ten years ago and it ended up working, why wouldn't he do it now?" Dent asked in a low voice, leaning closer to the two women as Rachel took a heavy sip of her coffee before practically slamming it back down on the Rachel. He gave her a look, quickly y reaching across to lay a hand on her shaking one that was wrapped around the handle of the steaming mug. Rachel's hand stilled and Jane lifted an eyebrow. Were the two attorneys…involved?

Jane shrugged, eyes still on the interlocked hands on the coffee mug. "I don't know. Asked myself that same damn question. In fact, I asked _him _it as well except I might not have been as nice…" She lifted her eyes to Dent's to find him looking at her humorously.

"So you were the 'raving lunatic' he wouldn't shut up about." Dent chuckled. He patted Rachel's arm and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and causing the grey suit he wore to bunch up a little around the shoulders. "I'm impressed. Not many people can get under his skin so much that he won't stop talking about for about three days afterwards. He still mentions it every now and then. I think he's trying to convince Mayor Garcia to put more security guards up to stop people from coming inside unless they've been approved."

Snorting, Jane said, "yeah, like a few fucking lightweight guards are going to stop me. No offense, Dent, but your office areas? They have the _worst _security system of anything I know of. I'm pretty sure that low-level mob banks are like the fucking White House compared to your place."

"They're not exactly the greatest, but I like to think they can handle themselves pretty well." Jane gave him a look. "Okay, well, maybe they can surprise you." Jane continued looking at him as if to say _'are you shitting me?'_ Dent coughed into his fist. "They're nice young men that make up for their lack of experience and skill with eagerness?"

"Whatever. I just hope that you know a thing or two about self-defense or you're _fucked _if someone decides to go in there or something. Though, I'm rather pleased that I got under Loeb's skin. Someone needed to. The guy's a damn jerk."

"He's not so bad once you get to know him," Rachel offered pleasantly and soothed back her dark brown hair that she had in a tight bun. Jane snorted, gripping her now-empty cup in her hands and spinning it around on its' edge. "Really. He's just trying to do his job. Sure, I mean, he's not exactly the most appreciative man in the world, but he just wants what's best for Gotham."

"If he wanted what was best for Gotham then he wouldn't mind Batman and I helping out a little. We're not corrupt like most of the people that work under him – the ones that he actually places his trust in." Jane snarled bitterly and glared down at the cup as she set it down. Putting her finger on the rim, she ran it around as Rachel sighed next to her dejectedly.

"But he doesn't know that. Loeb isn't exactly someone that just doles out trust. A quality that I'm sure you can understand. He's been given a new position, one that he's not too sure if he will be able to do correctly. Imagine if word got out that he actually condoned vigilantes. Gotham's citizens would be abhorred and he would be torn to pieces in the news." Dent chimed in with a reasonable argument.

Jane raised her eyes to glare at him. She fucking hated it when people used logic like that against her. "As if Gotham isn't fond of Batman at the moment. He's done nothing but good things for this fucked up place. People should learn to be more appreciative of those who risk their lives for theirs."

"I agree with you wholeheartedly Jane. I'm just saying that not everyone takes as kindly to Batman's efforts – and yours, though they remain anonymous – as we do. I think what the Batman has done is fantastic, something to be admired, and I'm not alone in this thought. However, others….are less than keen at their positions of power being usurped by a masked figure in the night."

"Well then _others_," Jane practically hissed, "are fuckheads. Seriously, who doesn't appreciate a little help?"

"Calm down, Jane. It's nothing to get so upset about." Rachel pleaded.

"Nothing to get upset about? It's something to get extremely upset about." Rachel just didn't understand. Dent seemed to kind of get where she was coming from, but in the end only she and Bruce could ever fully comprehend the frustration she felt. Here she was, risking her fucking life like Bruce was, and it appeared that no one even thought twice about it. It was damn exasperating. Most sense of humanity had been restored now that she had Bruce's influence in her life but she still insanely questioned the motives behind men like Loeb who seemed to not want to get Maroni behind bars. If Loeb really wanted the mob down, one would think that he would take offered help wherever he could get it. Even if that help came in the form of a masked vigilante and a woman.

Whatever. Jane was almost tired of mulling it over. She could do nothing to change the circumstances and other people's minds. Thinking and talking about it only riled her up even more, giving her an even greater distaste for politics and bureaucrats. It was like bile to her. Leaning up on her elbows placed on the table, she ran her hands through her hair, pushing the strands that had a slight wave to them out of her face, pluming out from the spaces between her fingers. Jane huffed, closed her eyes as she tried to calm herself down from the hype she had over imagining and discussing Loeb.

"I'm guessing that's not the only reason you wanted to talk to me today." Jane said flatly just before she opened her eyes, meeting Rachel's. Rachel sighed contently, pleased with the turn of the discussion, and primly smoothed down the napkin-wrapped silverware in front of her.

"I just thought you would like to meet Harvey. You know he's the new Defense Attorney. Sworn in just two weeks ago." She smiled at Dent from across the table. Jane's eyes shifted between the two. So, the two did seem to have something going on… Surely that would complicate business matters as well? Jane shrugged internally and let go of her hair plopping her hands flatly on the tabletop. Wasn't any of her damn business anyway. She couldn't expect Rachel to stay out of her relationship with Bruce if she was in her's and Dent's.

Jane knew that Bruce no longer loved Rachel in that fashion, a fact that immensely pleased her. He hadn't said it outright yet, but somehow she just knew it. Bruce didn't seem like the type to lead Jane on like he was then turn right around and go back to Rachel. Jane had only known the guy for a few months, but she considered herself a good judge of character, and Bruce just didn't fit in that slot. If he did, she wouldn't have allowed herself to get this close to him like she had. Jane was pleased to see that Rachel, whom never showed any outward affection to Bruce that could be interpreted as anything but friendly, had seemingly found a companion in a guy like Harvey Dent. He seemed to be smart. A good guy all around. Strikingly personable as well. Jane found that she rather liked having him around even though they had only talked for half an hour at most.

She couldn't tell how far the relationship between Dent and Rachel had progressed – relationships were not her forte whatsoever – but she rather liked the match. Maybe Dent could help Rachel be more grounded and aware of those that she messed with. The fiery woman had a mouth that ran without inhibition. Something that had gotten her into a bit of trouble with Crane and Falcone. Perhaps now that Dent was around, he could somehow make her shut up every now and then. Be more perceptive of both what she said and who she said it to.

Jane didn't know what she was supposed to say, so she just nodded. Looking down at her cell phone in her lap, she saw that they had been at the restaurant for about half an hour. "Well, it was great to meet you Dent, nice to see you Rachel. But I have some stuff to do. You two, eh, take care, I guess?" She added awkwardly with a small wave. Standing, she walked away from the table and towards the cashier next to the door. She paid for her meal and then left. When she looked back at the table, Dent and Rachel was still talking, hunched over the table together. Jane rolled her eyes at the disgustingly romantic scene, but couldn't help the small smile that graced her lips as she walked out, immediately searching for a cab.

* * *

Mentally preparing herself for Rebecca's battering of questions, Jane tried to walk as slowly as possible up the staircase towards her apartment. She gripped the metal railing tightly, trying to come up with suitable enough answers as to her whereabouts the yesterday and last night. Rebecca probably figured that she had spent the night with Bruce – and therefore, the actions that probably took place as a result of that sleepover – but she seemed the type that would ask regardless. Probably to open up the discussion of Bruce's and Jane's relationship which was something that Jane was dreading more than anything.

Firstly, she didn't want to discuss her sex life with anyone. Period.

Secondly, Jane didn't know if she and Bruce even really had a relationship. Bruce had said they did yesterday just before she stormed away, but then she had fired back that she didn't know if they had one or not. Maybe they were just really good friends? Who…happened to have sex? Wonderful, amazing sex? Jane knew that "good friends" bit was bullshit right off the bat. The lines hadn't been clearly drawn as to whether or not they were officially "together" or anything. And to be honest, Jane felt the determining of their boyfriend-girlfriend status juvenile. She didn't really need to confirmation for herself because quite frankly, she didn't give a fuck as long as she was the one that had his attentions. _All_ of his attentions. She didn't want to think they were exclusive and then be blindsided by the images of him and some hot model on the cover of a tabloid. No. That shit wasn't going to fly.

Jane really needed a clearer picture to be able to describe them to other people. Like Rachel and Rebecca who seemed to want to know about her and Bruce. Not that she really gave a fuck what the two women thought of her – well, actually, she kind of _did _to some degree, she supposed. Rebecca, because Jane was trying to help rehabilitate her. And Rachel, because she was close to Bruce even though the two hadn't had much contact in a while. She probably still held an incredible amount of sway. Bruce had told her of his identity as Batman, so he had to hold her opinion in pretty high esteem – thought not enough to stop doing what he was doing, much to her disappointment.

As Jane rounded the last corner before she would step off of the staircase, she froze, hand gripped onto the scratched and germ-infested railing as her blood ran icy cold. Her door – the door to her apartment room – had been kicked open and was currently half-closed. Rebecca!

Jane bounded up the steps as quickly as she could, bursting through the door to stand in the living room, her eyes quickly scouring over the trashed and destroyed apartment. Cushions, chairs, pots, glasses, pans, food, cupboards, furniture, _everything_ had been ripped to pieces and thrown about the room as if a tornado had torn through. The windows were smashed, the cold outside breeze freezing her as she pivoted in a tight circle, eyes looking in horror at the ruined pieces of her place. _Her _privacy. Everything. This wasn't even a robbery. This…this was a retribution or revenge of sorts. A direct attack.

Head snapping towards the bedroom door, Jane quickly ran towards it. Her combat boots crushed shards of glass and slipped on paper as she crossed the short distance quickly. Lifting a leg, she kicked the door open. It banged away from the wall and she caught it before it could smack her in the face. Much like her kitchen and living room area, the bedroom had been demolished as well. Her clothes were scattered around and ripped, her bed the brunt of deep knife-made stabs and tears. Feathers were everywhere, stirred by the bashed windows. Jane's mouth gaped as she saw her drawers were open, most of her weapons gone.

There were no signs of anyone in the apartment. Not even Rebecca. Oh fuck! Where was Rebecca? Jane turned and went to the bathroom, opening the door and stumbling in. Did they seriously fuck up everything they could find? The mirror had been torn down, busted into pieces on the tile, and the shower curtain had been ripped down, bottles of shampoo and soap poured out everywhere. Clenching her jaw tightly, Jane ducked into the room and went for the supply closet. She stood on her tiptoes and pulled out towels, tossing them behind her as her hands fumbled for the spare guns and ammo she kept back there.

Finally, she grabbed the box they were stored in and brought it out. Putting it on the ground, she bent on her knees as her hands frantically tore the lid off, eagerly searching for the itching in her hands to stop. She wanted – needed – the comfortable feel of metal in her hands. Loading the small handgun, she put the spare one in the waistband of the back of her jeans. The extra ammo went into her boots and the pockets of her jeans. A single knife was tucked at her waist.

Fuck! Rebecca. She needed to find Rebecca. Standing up, she kicked the now-empty box out of the way and went back into the living room. Where should she start? Someone had come into her house. Someone wanted her. Who would want her? Crane? Maybe? With a groan, Jane realized that she needed to call Bruce. She took out her cell phone and immediately dialed his number. Once the phone was at her ear did she see the note taped to the wall beside the door. Jane snatched it down, immediately reading it. _We have the girl. Meet us at 7 at the docks. _No signature. No nothing. Jane crumbled the letter, putting her fist to her face as she took in a shaky breath. Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck._

"Bruce!" She practically screamed as he answered. "Someone's been in my apartment. They have Rebecca. _They fucking have Rebecca!_"

* * *

**A/N: Thanks to all who review/favorite/follow! It means so much :D**

**Only two more chapters to go! Told you this would be quick. Wonder how it's going to turn out...? ;)**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Locked myself out of my dorm...again.**

* * *

Jane rubbed her hand across her forehead, looking down at the note for the hundredth time. Someone out here _had_ Rebecca. Someone _wanted_ Jane. Someone seemed stupid and willing enough to do whatever it took to get her. Someone was probably doing unspeakable tortures on Rebecca right now. That same someone would also regret ever thinking of coming around.

The thoughts made her fist clench around the thin sheet, wrinkling it almost beyond comprehension, blurring the letters written on it in black pen. Whoever had come into her apartment had done so violently, almost as if they were in a rage. Her door had been locked with the chain, which now dangled uselessly off the door that held a huge dent at the bottom from where it had been kicked heavily, and scuff marks around the upper sides from where someone had clawed at it. _Everything _had been destroyed. Nothing had been taken. Jane figured that a group had come in at once to decimate her home. One person couldn't have done this much damage alone. The couch and chairs looked like her bed – deep knife impressions and tatters, stuffing everywhere and fabric ripped to shreds. It was a pitiful sight.

They hadn't left anything untouched. Everything had been pulled out of its place, destroyed, and then thrown onto the floor. Her apartment was almost unrecognizable to her eyes as she stared at it. Bruce was walking around the place, searching for surfaces that he might be able to get a fingerprint off of. Jane kicked at a broken lamp shade and stepped into the bedroom. Just when she was starting to be content with life…once everything seemed to be going okay. It was torn to pieces again. Jane bit the inside of her cheek as she looked at all of her torn clothes, the scraps piled all over the place. She had nothing left. Not even her favorite weapons.

Seeing the apartment like this was horrible. It was like someone hadn't only intruded on her place, but also her privacy, gaining information about her that they shouldn't have. The comfort that should come with being in one's home was gone. For ten years she had lived here alone and had never once felt like she was actually horribly exposed. Now that someone had intruded in, it felt like it was more of a personal attack than a physical one. Someone hated her, and they had tried to tear down her sense of security more than anything.

Jane sighed, bending over to pick up a white scrap lying by her boots. She knew just by this one shred it was one of Bruce's shirts. The one that she had somehow managed to sneak out of his house one time. Dropping it, she let it fall back down to the ground. As she walked to the other side of the room towards the fire escape, her guns tucked at her back scraped against her spine, comforting her with their presence much like Bruce was. Careful not to touch any shards, Jane climbed out of the window, landing cleanly on the metal balcony-like thing. She went to the stairs, grasping onto them as she turned to look at the wall her window was on.

Through the broken window, she could see the ruined things of her bedroom. Shifting her eyes to look at the area around the window, they caught on something interesting. What was that? Walking forward, Jane squatted down to pick up what she now realized was a balled-up piece of paper tucked in between the metal of the fire escape and the concrete wall. Curious, Jane grabbed it, uncrumbling it and trying to smooth it out on her thigh before reading it.

_Josh, Tyrone, Eddie. Maroni's men. _

The writing was loopy, hurried and smeared in some places from the pen. But Jane knew that it had to be Rebecca's. Before they took her she must have written the names of the people in the apartment and threw it out the window. Jane's eyes widened with excitement as she finally realized the names of the men and stood. As she went back through the window, she practically ran towards Bruce excitedly. Holding the paper in hand, she thrust it into Bruce's chest, which he caught while giving her a curious look.

"Josh – that's the guy that said he was Maroni's nephew. He attacked me the other day when I was coming home from my meeting with Maroni. Tyrone is probably the black guy that I humiliated in front of Maroni by putting him on his knees when he tried to grab me. And Eddie? If I could guess, it's probably the guy that was with Josh. They're the ones that came into my apartment today and took Rebecca."

Bruce's eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the paper. "Are they working for Maroni? Is this one of his things or one of their own, do you think?"

"Don't know," she shrugged while taking her phone out of her pocket. "Only one way to find out." Jane flipped open the phone and immediately scrolled through the contacts for Maroni's name and number. Bruce reached out and grabbed her wrist, Jane's eyes shooting from the screen to his as she arched an eyebrow at his bold move. "What? You want to talk to him?"

"Is that really such a good idea? If he is behind this whole thing, letting him know that you're on to him may compromise Rebecca's safety. Maroni may want you. If he does, he's probably not going to hurt Rebecca, seeing as how she means nothing to him, and he isn't aware of her position in your eyes. For all he knows, she's just a friend that was staying over when they came."

"But Rebecca-"

"Can take care of herself." Bruce slipped his hand down to grasp the phone and he tugged it out of her hands, twisting it into his palm and then closing it easily. He slid it back into her pocket. "She's not stupid. Nothing that they put her through can be any worse than what has already happened to her."

"But she's there, alone." Jane protested weakly as Bruce reasoned with her. "Just because she's been through worse doesn't make this time any better. All of the progress that she's made will be lost – wiped out as if it hasn't happened. What if when we get her, she's too far gone again? Only this time we won't be able to save her."

"Jane." Bruce said calmly and placed his hands on her shoulders. "We can't do anything about it right now. What I need for you to do is calm down. You're not going to be any help to anyone if you're all worked up and not able to think properly when we do go to the docks in a few hours. If you're still angry, you'll think irrationally and something bad will happen. Just…stay calm, okay?"

"You know, you're real fucking annoying when you're all rational and shit."

* * *

Jane stood at the docks alone. In the past few hours, she had done nothing but sit and wait anxiously for the sky to darken into the intense blackness that it was now. Watching the clock had given her a nervous, jittery energy that showed itself even now as she sat on a busted crate, one leg crossed over the other and elbow resting on her knee cap. She had her chin in the palm of her hand, a perfect picture of ease as she wind coming from the breeze off of the water blew her hair back out of her face. She had it in a high ponytail, but those pesky little strands refused to be held back by even a copious amount of hairspray. She still wore jeans, combat boots, her pink shirt, and Bruce's black button-down. Jane was a little chilly, but nothing that was too unmanageable. She had too much energy to be freezing.

Tucking a stray wisp behind her ear, she looked over her shoulder to see if anyone had shown up yet. Seeing that the area was still empty, Jane sighed and pulled out her phone nestled deep into her pocket. Six-fifty. Fucking assholes. They better not be late. If there was one thing Jane despised, it was people who made her wait longer than necessary.

She knew she wasn't alone. Before she and Bruce had come to the docks, it was decided that she would wait for whoever would come try to speak to her. Batman would listen in, and Jane would somehow get whoever was speaking to spill Rebecca's location, which Batman would go find immediately afterwards. Jane would take care of whoever came for her, and then go to the location. Nothing too hard. This little "meeting" would be extremely easy for the two of them to handle. Especially since they were possibly only dealing with the likes of Josh, Tyrone, and Eddie.

Her two guns were tucked at her back like before, a pocket knife in one pocket, and one that was sheathed in the other. She was more than ready for Josh and the other goons to come, almost anticipating their appearance with excitement. They really thought they could pull something like this and get away? No. Hell no. Jane wasn't going to kill them, but she was going to make sure they ended up in a nice cell for a good bit of time.

Another strand escaped and slapped against her forehead. With an annoyed sigh, Jane pushed back. She was just going to cut her damn hair. Shave the whole fucking thing off and go bald. Maybe get a wig. Yeah, a wig might be nice. Then, if it got on her nerves she could just take it off. But, Bruce did like her hair. He was always playing with it for some reason. Yeah…she wasn't going to shave it off. Just a little trim to get it shorter and more manageable again.

Hearing obnoxiously loud boot steps somewhere behind her, Jane planted both feet on the ground and stood, turning to face her newcomers as she crossed her arms over her chest. Right over left, just in case she needed to snap her hand around and grab a gun quickly. A single black shadow was visible, coming from an alley of crates. It was obviously Josh – even from a good distance away she could make out the wiry, fucked up hair. His short, stocky build was cloaked in jeans and a bulky jacket. He was hunched over at the shoulders as if he was cold, eyes down on the pavement to look away from the wind. Jane could have killed him right there. The guy really was a fucking idiot. Who the hell came up on someone who was fucking _armed_ and _dangerous _with their head down on the ground?

Jane rolled her eyes and moved the crate out of her way with her leg. It scraped against the concrete, and Josh's head snapped up at the noise, as if he was just made aware that she was there in front of him. Instantly, he snapped up straighter, eyes narrowing as he struggled to look at her. Jane knew that the light post was behind her, cloaking her features and face in blackness to match the night. She had done this for a purpose, just to make him even more at unease than he obviously was. With a smirk, she saw that she succeeded, as he kept trying to make out her face in the darkness of the false mask.

"I see you came," he said with a smile. Jane snorted, shifting her weight to her back leg to appear the picture of ease. All she wanted to do was reach out and swipe that stupid fucking smile off his face, something that he had obviously copied from Maroni. Seriously, what was with the guy's fucking fascination with him? "We have the girl."

"I noticed. I didn't come out here for nothing, Josh." Jane replied flatly, and her own smile spread across her face as he appeared startled that she knew his name. "Yeah, I'm not a fucking idiot, dude. I also know that you're not really Maroni's nephew, not that a simple family relationship would change my opinion of you anyway."

He blubbered for a moment. Josh pushed his hands further into his jacket and cast a quick glance over his shoulder. "I'll offer you a trade. Come with me, and I'll let the girl go free."

"Why are you so insistent that I come with you, Josh? I'm just going to beat your ass anyway. Yours, and your little buddies that I know are hiding somewhere behind you with the girl." To put a name with Rebecca would make her seem more valuable to Jane, make her more personable. Jane was curious now as to why they had kidnapped her in the first place, and that interest had grown when Josh mentioned his little 'trade'.

Josh brushed her off with a fake chuckle. "I'm the only one here, sweetcakes."

"_Don't _call me sweetcakes." Jane warned in a low tone. Tilting her chin towards the crates behind him, she looked over his shoulder and saw another shadow shift. This one was bigger, probably Tyrone. "I know for a fact there's someone back there around those crates. Probably…Tyrone?" She saw that flash of surprise in his eyes. "You're not as shifty as you think. You're a fucking idiot, as you have proven on multiple occasions now. Give me the girl and you won't get hurt." Lie. He was going to get hurt.

"Unless you want the girl to die, you'll be wise to do what I say." Josh growled, clearly frustrated that the conversation wasn't going the way he had hoped it would.

"Oh really?" Jane quirked an eyebrow though she knew he couldn't see it. Force of habit. She took a step closer, eyeing him carefully. "Unless _you _want to die, you'll be wise to not lay a single hand on her. If I find out that you hurt her in any fashion, I'll come after you with a vengeance that will haunt you for the rest of your pathetic little life. Do you understand?" Leaning towards him, she gave him a long, steady glare. "Is that understood, Josh? I would hate for there to be any misunderstandings between us."

A flash panic went through his eyes and a surge of anger flew through her. They _had _hurt her somehow. Quick to react, Jane reared back and gave him a strong kick in the gut. Josh doubled over, totally not expecting the attack. She put her heel against his shoulder and pushed him to the ground. Then, moving to stand over him, she knelt onto one knee on his chest and lifted his fat chin with the other. He was wheezing pathetically.

Jane clenched her jaw and wrapped her hands around his chin, forcing him to look up at her as she growled down at him furiously. "What did you do to her? _What did you do_?" She hissed, squeezing her nails into his skin.

"Nothing," Josh struggled to speak because she was squeezing so tightly. He shook his head a little but was unable to move it much as she tightened her arm muscles. "We didn't do anything."

"Liar. I fucking _hate_ liars." Jane put her left hand in her pocket and brought out her pocket knife. She flipped it open and let the light from the streetlamp illuminate it, flashing the reflection of the light into his eyes before she slowly lowered it to his forehead just above his brow. Jane didn't press down hard enough to break the skin, but applied just enough pressure for him to feel the uncomfortable blade against his skin. His eyes went upwards to try to see it. "Tell me, Josh. Telling me a lie like that again will not help your situation."

"I-I didn't touch her! I wasn't the one that wanted to! That-that was all Gif-Gif-Eddie and Tyrone!" He squirmed underneath her, clearly panicking as he saw the murderous rage in her eyes. "I swear that I didn't touch her! They just-just had a litt-little fun was all. N-Nothing t-too serious."

Jane leaned forward and sat on his chest as she pushed her knees out from underneath her so that they dug into the area just under his shoulders on his arms. Pressing a little harder on the knife, she made a tiny incision and Josh's eyes squeezed shut and his breath came out in a short spurt. She let up. "What did you do? Tell me _exactly _what happened."

"F-F-Fine! Please, just…just don't k-kill me." He stammered. "T-Tyrone, he-he got a little rough, ya know? B-But I st-stopped him. Said that-that we didn't need to p-piss you off any m-more than w-we already-y had. G-Eddie w-wanted her. S-said he hadn't had a, uh, _proper woman_ i-in long time. B-But they didn't do-do any-anything! Th-they couldn't! Juust beat her up a l-little once she fought back!"

Jane smiled at him, not because of his confession at what had happened with Rebecca, but because Rebecca fought back. Good for her. "Where is she now? Is she okay? Where is she, Josh!?"

"With Eddie!" Josh cried out as she pressed the blade a little harder. She flipped it onto its' side, dragging the flat edge down the side of his face. He whimpered as she rounded it at his chin, dropping her heavy grip. "Th-They're somewhere in the warehouse behind the crates! I swear!"

"Thank you Josh. You've been most cooperative." Jane moved the knife away from him and Josh relaxed underneath her. "Unfortunately, I can't let you go." His eyes widened as she put her hands around his throat, squeezing to cut off his air supply. He struggled, bucking his hips beneath her as she tightened her thighs and hands around him, struggling to stay on and keep her grip hard. Finally, he went slack and she let up immediately. She opened his mouth so he could get air and quickly slid off, standing over him once again. Josh wasn't dead. Just unconscious.

Jane closed the knife and slid it into her pocket. Reaching behind her, she gripped the handle of one of her guns and pulled it out, starting to walk towards the warehouse. Somewhere in those shadows stood Tyrone, a man she had already beaten one time but he hadn't expected it. Jane knew that he wasn't like Josh and Eddie. Tyrone was a powerfully imposing man, more so than Bruce even. She was going to have to use her guns and every ounce of skill that she had if she wanted to beat him. Instead of going straight into the area she had seen his shadows, Jane ducked behind a large crate and ran down the side. She ran on her the toes of her boots to keep her steps as quietly as possible so she wouldn't give her position away.

Holding the gun pointing towards the sky at her head in a safe manner, Jane swung around the crate and ducked into one of the alleys. Ears straining for any noise, Jane kept her back to the crate behind her and stepped sideways, looking to her left and right in an almost paranoid fashion. She didn't know Tyrone's position, didn't know where to expect him to be. All she knew was that he was still probably somewhere around here. Unless, of course, he saw her take out Josh and he fled to where Eddie and Rebecca were. Probably not though. Tyrone seemed to despise her and would take any advantage to take her down.

She reached the mouth of an alley and stopped. Listening intently, she moved her head as far as she could to the edge to peer to the side beside her. When she saw nothing, Jane straightened back up slowly bent down onto her knees. Tyrone could be standing there and waiting for her to pop out. She didn't know if he had a gun or not. Hopefully, he didn't. It would make her position all the more better and easier. Jane wanted to get to Eddie and secure Rebecca first, but knew she had to take care of Tyrone first. She had yet to pick up where Batman was and wondered what he was going to do.

Bringing the gun in front of her face, Jane closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Trying to shoot a gun while she was hyped up on adrenaline would lead to a poorly fired shot, greatly decreasing her chance of actually hitting Tyrone in the place that she wanted to. She could even miss, giving him the opportunity to instead fire on her. Jane opened her eyes and counted slowly in her mind to relax her tense shoulders and grip on the gun. Then, she leaned to the side and stuck her arm onto the outside of the alley. Her head snapped to look down the line her arm made towards the right-hand side of the mouth. She tensed, prepared to fire, her finger tightening on the trigger in anticipation.

Nothing.

Jane let out a small sigh before standing. She made a quick check down the other end before stepping completely into the rather darkened aisle. There was a single light at the far end in the direction she was going, casting numerous shadows as it beamed off of the tops of huge crates that were stacked in columns of three all the way down, creating huge walls. The ones that she was in, however, were only one stack high. Getting an idea, Jane quickly glanced up, turning to face the crate. What if…

Making a snap decision, Jane pocketed the gun. Suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable without the weapon in her hands, she quickly gripped one of the poles and pulled herself up, using the ground to help her jump to gain height. Jane let out a burst of breath as she pulled herself to the top of the red crate using only her arm muscles, her boots providing no purchase on the crate. Finally, with one last tug she was on the top, and she swung her legs over the side so that she was lying flat on top. Jane tried to catch her breath and let her arms rest for a moment before she moved, sliding across the top easily on her stomach.

When she reached the middle, Jane pulled her gun out and held it firmly in her hand. Slowly, and quietly, she stood, rising up off of the metal as her eyes scanned the area around. Her sharp eyes instantly spotted Josh's body next to the wharf, but other than that she saw nothing. Oh! Wait! Fuck, what was that? Jane leaned forward; narrowing her eyes as she once again saw that flicker of movement. Raising the gun, she pointed it to the general direction, finger on the trigger. The shadow moved again, and a few heartbeats later, Tyrone came into sight, a gun in his hands as well.

He was about two crates down, his eyes looking opposite her direction as his head looked to his left. Jane went to her knees before sliding onto her stomach, propped up on her elbows as she tried to aim. Only his torso and head were visible – the rest of him was cloaked in the shadows. She didn't want to make a kill shot, only injure him a little. To do that, she needed a clear aim for his arm or legs, something that she didn't have right now. Jane also wanted to see if his hands were armed before she began firing, so then at least she could prepare for some fire back.

Tyrone's head turned to face his right, and Jane ducked her head a little lower even though he wasn't going to think of looking up. If he did, she would be a sitting duck. Fuck. Maybe climbing the crate hadn't been such a good idea. She grimaced a little, but didn't dare move off as he looked at Josh's body. Tyrone stepped out of the shadows, probably thinking that she had moved on to Eddie now. Jane smiled, watching as his body slowly came into view underneath the lights. There…he did have a gun. Oh, and he was a leftie. Jane never shot a leftie before.

Jane shifted her position and her foot pushed against something that clattered against the metal crate. She sucked in a breath, cursing herself mentally at the slip-up. Tyrone whirled around at the sound and Jane shot, but the fire was a little wilder than she meant, being caught off-guard. It was off by a centimeter at most, but that was enough for Tyrone to lift his gun and fire three times at her. Jane rolled to the side and kept rolling until she reached the end. Scrambling, Jane jumped down, the impact on the ground jarring her ankles and making her hiss at the pain. Tyrone shot again and the bullet bounced off of the top of the crate. So he still thought she was up there. She had maybe five seconds until he realized differently and came after her.

Holding the gun up, Jane began running down the aisle before ducking at the final one, shielding herself in the darkness as she tried to catch her breath. Fuck! Why had she missed that shot? That should have been an easy one! Cursing herself again at her stupidity, Jane clenched her jaw and put her head against the crate, straining her ears once more to hear if Tyrone was near or not.

She heard heavy footsteps, and tensed herself in preparation for him to start firing once he uncovered her position. Jane tried to press herself as much into the crate's shadow as possible to become invisible. She shifted her grip on the gun, holding it tightly as Tyrone raced down the aisle to her right. Closing her eyes, she focused only on the sounds of his boots hitting the concrete, gauging his position to hers as best she could. He would stop altogether at times, possibly to peek down an walkway to make sure she wasn't hiding in it before running to the next one and repeating the same pattern. Jane lowered herself slowly to her knees again; shifting back on her heels as she twisted her body, aiming upwards in what she estimated would be where his arm would be. Jane would have to his left arm to incapacitate his dominant hand before she did anything.

Opening her eyes, she drew in a deep breath. He was close. His steps slowed and then picked up. Tyrone appeared at the mouth of her aisle and she fired instantly, the gun jerking back just slightly in her hands from the kick. But she held on expertly, refusing to let the slight jump of the bullet leaving the barrel disarm her, and then fired again. The shots found their bull's-eye, burying themselves into his shoulder and he shouted, the gun dropping from his now-useless right hand. Jane stood swiftly, putting her left leg from the ground before standing on it solidly, dropping her arm a bit and shot his left leg. Tyrone cursed as it pierced through his kneecap, the pain making him crumble onto the ground before her as she walked forward and kicked his gun out of arm's reach.

Two down. One to go.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Jane turned on her heel and ran. "You bitch!" Tyrone screamed after her before she disappeared around the corner. "I'll get you for this! I'll fucking get you for this!"

"I'd like to see you try, asshole!" Jane called back, not slowing down as she went for the warehouse. She didn't know if Eddie had already left with Rebecca or if he was still there. Hopefully, Batman was already taking care of him. Knowing him, he probably had it all wrapped up. Nonetheless, Jane reached into her boots and pulled out a round of ammo, re-stocking her gun and tossing the now-empty clip onto the ground. Pushing it in, she cocked the gun so that it was ready to be fired. Jane sped her pace, holding the powerful yet small weapon by her ear pointing skyward as she ran, finger no longer wrapped around the trigger. Gun safety was a _must_.

The faint thundering sound of her thick boots hitting the ground was the only thing she heard as she ran towards the warehouse. It wasn't too far away. Close enough that she had made it to the back entrance of the weathered, cracked concrete building quite quickly from the rows of crates. Jane skidded to a stop before rearing her leg back and kicking the door open. The wooden door didn't snap back, however, merely crumbled in on itself. Jane grimaced and kicked again, bracing one hand on the frame as she beat the door through. Why did they have a fucking wooden door next to water where it would only become weathered?

Once had most of the door broken down, Jane ducked through a few remaining pieces overhead and stepped inside, her foot instantly sliding on something slimy and disgusting. Quickly, she snapped her left arm out and grabbed onto one of the boards above her head. It came loose in her hands, and her leg slid out underneath her. "Damn!" Jane hissed under her breath as she fell onto her left thigh. She tried not to put her hands on the ground, struggling a little as she stood. The inside of the warehouse was eerily darkened, the lights cut off. The only light came from the outside lamps streaming in from the busted and broken windows.

It was roughly two stories tall, and as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Jane thought she could make out a wooden staircase in the far left corner next to the wall. Obviously, the place was empty. Abandoned because there was nothing in it, the air stale from misuse. Jane carefully stepped forward, bracing herself for the slick coating on the floor. She kept her eyes wide, trying to make them adjust quickly to the darkness that surrounded her so.

After a few unsteady steps, the floor became solid under her, and she began to take a bit larger strides. She kept her ears alert for any sounds that would come. But she could hear nothing as she slowly walked towards the staircase. Jane kept out of the light, making sure she stayed in the darkness as she went. She relaxed her fingers on the gun, feeling them become a bit stiff and she let them dance in the air for a moment in the air to put some sensations through them to drive out the numbness. Turning her head to look over her shoulder, Jane watched just as carefully as she was listening. Somewhere, Rebecca and Eddie were probably in the building – more than likely upstairs in the tiny office, along with Batman. But why the fuck wasn't she hearing anything?

Once she turned back to look in front of her, a black figure landed with a loud _thunk _in front of her, and Jane careened to a half. Her arms reflexively fell forward into a straight, tight line as she aimed for the noise, finger instantly curling around the trigger as she sucked in a breath. In the tiny sliver of light that stretched to where she stood, she saw the edge of a cape swoosh as it carried the momentum of the fall. Jane relaxed, and bent her arms back to where they were – holding the gun up by her ear once again. Letting out a quiet stream of breath, Jane knew she was going to have to fucking get on to Bruce about randomly popping up whenever she had a weapon in her hands. She could have _shot _him. The bullet wouldn't have done anything to hurt him through the armor, but still. Their position would have been given away dammit. Narrowing her eyes even though she knew he couldn't see it, she stepped forward closer to him.

Leaning forward, she put a hand to his chest and ran it up to his shoulder, tugging him towards her as she gripped his armor. Jane went for where she assumed his ear was, and put her lips to it. "Do that again," she whispered, "and I'll fucking make you pay for that shit."

"Is that a promise?" Batman gruffly replied, earning a huge smile and a shot of arousal through her. Damn. "Eddie has Rebecca upstairs. I'm sure you already knew that though. She seems fine – not shaken or anything that would raise suspicion about their…activities that might have happened while she was with them. There are men that just arrived outside. More of Maroni's men."

"Maroni sent them?" She asked and leaned back, noticing that he was no longer whispering. Letting hand fall from his shoulder, she returned it to her gun. Jane wished that the windows would be on the first floor near the ground. That way she would be able to see the shadows if they came about. Naturally, though, they were high above her, closer to the ceiling.

"No. Eddie called them in once you and I made our presences known. He obviously thought that Josh and Tyrone would take care of you easily. There's about seven of them – all carrying guns."

"So what are we going to do?" Jane asked and looked back up at him. "My leave is obviously out of the question.

"I wouldn't expect anything else." She detected the smile on his lips, and gave of her own. Strange how well they knew each other after only becoming close for a short amount of time. "They'll come from both entrances – the back and the front. By the way, did you _have _to kick in the door? You need to go upstairs and get Rebecca. Get her to safety and take out Eddie – she'll be safe upstairs out of the gunfire once he's out of the picture. Then, stay up there and get shots from above."

"So, I'll be the sniper and you'll be like, the combat person." Jane affirmed and nodded her head. She wouldn't be in on the action too much, but she'd take what she got. Not too sure how she would do when faced with guns and fists at the same time with no protection other than the thin shirt that she wore. "Cool. You kick ass, I'll rescue the damsel. Sounds like a plan."

Jane moved around him, quickly heading towards the staircase again, not bothering to avoid the light this time. Eddie already knew that she was here, more than likely, so it wasn't as if she needed to be elusive any longer. Stopping abruptly, she turned to face where she figured Batman was still standing, waiting. "If you get hurt I'm kicking your ass, understand?" Without pausing for an answer, Jane backed away out of the light and began going up the steps, holding her gun in preparation for Eddie. Down the steps, men appeared through the door she had come in, but Jane paid them no attention as she scurried upwards. Batman was more than prepared for them – she didn't need to worry about him right now. Her job was to secure Rebecca and then focus on helping him out.

Jane reached the top of the metal staircase just as gunshots began to fire. They were aiming for her, her position given away by the loud clanging of her boots against the metal. Ducking her head a little reflexively, Jane's hand fumbled for the door handle. Finding it locked, she grit her teeth and backed away. She charged, ramming her shoulder into the door. It budged a little, but she wasn't successful in getting it open. Backing up again, she ran forward and shouldered it again. This time, the door gave, and she stumbled into the room, clutching her now-throbbing left shoulder.

A light was on in the room, and she was blinded momentarily. Jane heard a gunshot close by before she felt the searing pain in her left thigh. Her stance wavered and she clenched her jaw, struggling to maintain the loud curse that threatened to spew as blood spewed from the wound, flowering around her jeans and soaking it with redness. Grimacing, Jane let out a spurt of breath as she raised her own gun in front of her, eyes straining to see against the bright light.

"Jane!" Rebecca screamed from somewhere. "In front of –"A yelp replaced whatever warning she might have shouted, but Jane knew what she was trying to say. She turned sharply to the side just as another gunshot pierced the air, mingling with the sounds of men's grunt and groans from down below. Jane was finally out of the spotlight, eyes once again struggling to focus as she stood in the darkness again. The fucker had a damn lamp trailed on the entryway.

Her thigh was pulsating with pain, but Jane did her best to ignore it. She had been through worse, she could get through this. Pointing the gun forward, she tried to find where Eddie was standing in the office. He already got her once – he wouldn't get her again. Not until she gave him one of her own. "I already took out Tyrone and Josh, Eddie. I'll take you out, too. The game's over."

"The game is _never _over," Eddie taunted at her from somewhere in the veil of darkness. Jane slid backwards slightly, careful to not make any noise as she went. Her heel touched the wall and she stopped. Somehow, she had to get to a corner so he couldn't come at her from the sides. Corners generally were not a good place to be – but neither were dark places where there was a man intent on killing you, either. "_Jane_. Come out, come out, wherever you are. Rebecca's waiting."


	11. Chapter 11

Jane did not like her situation one. Single. _Bit_.

This was supposed to be easy. Just run in, subdue Eddie, grab Rebecca, and then get the hell out of there. As she stood in the corner, however, Jane got the creeping sensation that this was _not_ going to be as simple and quick as she originally planned. Eddie had already managed to shoot her once, the wound bleeding and the wetness running down her leg and soaking her jeans. She tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the bigger problem at hand. Somehow, Eddie had managed to get to her and she had no fucking idea where he was in the room. It was dark with the exception of the light pointing at the door. Everything else was cloaked in absolute darkness.

_Fuck_ she needed to get Eddie fast. Something about him - something about his tone when he spoke was so sinister and startling that it rubbed her the wrong way. There was something…strange about the man. Something that was definitely off about him. His tone had been too light, too playful yet dark at the same time to be relaxing at all. He was probably more than insane – Maroni not being smart enough to clear those he recruited into the family well enough that he allowed a complete psychopath into his ranks. Rapists, murderers and thieves she could handle. Psychopaths with guns? Now that was a problem. Especially when they had the upper hand, which Eddie had managed to get.

Shifting her weight forward onto the balls of her feet, Jane tried not to make a single sound that would give away her position. She could handle the darkness. As long as she remained absolutely quiet so that no sound Eddie made would be muffled. If he would only take a step on the old floorboards and make a creak…she would have his position and would be able to fire. Where was Rebecca? She had tried to warn her earlier when Jane had burst through the room all cocky and shit. Eddie had probably knocked her unconscious or either gagged her.

As she strained her ears, Jane realized that she couldn't hear anything. Not a damn thing. When she held her breath, she couldn't hear any other inhalation or exhale from anyone else in the room. Fuck. Where were they? Were they still even in the room?

Looking at the spotlight, Jane slowly went on all fours, carefully handling the gun as she crawled as silently as possible to the spotlight. When her hand brushed against the metal stand, she put her foot underneath her and rose, preparing the gun for firing by shifting her finger to the trigger. Grasping the head of the spotlight, she swung the light downwards and over, quickly scanning the room and launching the gun outwards to match the beam of light. The move was exceedingly dangerous – but one that she was forced to make in order to get a shot in on Eddie. The bright light cut through the darkness but…landed on no one. She tilted it down to the floor and swiveled it around again, searching to see if they were lying down instead. Why wasn't he firing at her?

Once the light passed over a metal desk in the corner, Jane knew exactly why Eddie hadn't launched into an attack as soon as she had given away where she was. Behind the empty table was a black rectangular hole that was just as pitch black as the rest of the room. She didn't let it rest on the spot for long, not wanting to give away that she knew where they were now hiding. Instead, Jane let the light fall on the opposite corner, dropping the spotlight so that she was no longer touching it. Downstairs behind her, more gunfire went off, a few more screams eliciting as Batman took care of them. He was probably wondering as to why she wasn't out helping him by now. Jane looked over her shoulder, catching mere glimpses of Maroni's men being tossed around as Batman gave it to them lick by lick.

Turning her attention back around to the cut-out, Jane slowly walked towards it. She was going extremely slowly, but hopefully her steps were quiet enough that Eddie wouldn't be able to tell that she had caught on to where he had disappeared. On the opposite side of the metal desk, she dropped to the ground and onto her fours once again. She lifted her finger off the trigger, reaching behind her to tuck it into her pants again. It wouldn't be the best thing for her to hold it as she crawled through the hole. Once she got to a suitable place she would take it out again. But for now? She would just have to be vulnerable once more.

Her thigh was pulsing with pain now, and Jane grit her teeth as she put pressure on it. Figuring that she might as well take care of the wound now before she lost too much blood, Jane sat back on her heels and took the hem of Bruce's shit in her hands. With a quick jerk, she tore the fabric and then put it up to her mouth, using her jaws to clamp and tug as she tore off a nice sized strip from around her waist. Sitting up a little, she took the strip of cloth and wrapped it around her thigh, tying it into a tight knot. It wouldn't hold for long, but it would do for now.

Jane placed her palms back on the old wooden floorboard. Hoping that she wasn't getting splinters, she crawled tentatively through the hole. The area inside was wooden as well, the space around her an extra shade blacker than the darkness of the outside. Where did this lead, anyway? Shifting onwards, she kept her eyes and ears open for any flicker of movement – even though it was damn impossible to see anything – or any hint of a sound. The only thing she could hear was her own shuffling and her light breathing.

When she reached the end of the tunnel, Jane paused, putting hand forward to feel the floor give away beneath her. Retreating back slightly into the hole, she reached behind her and grasped her gun, pulling it out of her pants and holding it up by her head. Jane swung her legs around so they faced the exit of the tunnel. Putting one hand behind to steady herself a little, she pushed forward until she reached the end of the hole again. It was just as dark still, Jane not knowing what was out past her. She couldn't even see her legs in front of her. Fear tinged her breathing pattern a little at the complete and utter darkness now, making her breaths become faster and quicker.

Fuck, why did it have to be so damn dark? She wanted nothing but to turn around and go back to the warehouse. Go back to the room with the spotlight and downstairs with the windows. But she had to face this. She had to do this. For Rebecca. If she didn't rescue her now…there was no telling what would happen.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Jane let her booted foot fall over the edge carefully, lowering it until she felt a small platform. Jane put her weight on it a little, testing its strength. It didn't give underneath her, staying in its same spot. She moved her leg out a little more, and the side dropped off again. Scooting closer to the edge of the hole, she stretched her leg over the small platform until she came to another solid landing again. Damn, why didn't she have a flashlight? Where the fuck had they gone? _Fucking shit_. Eddie was going to be more black and blue than he was white when she got finished with him.

Curious, Jane reached her free hand out of the hole and felt along the sides. She was met with a pole, and as she felt upwards, what seemed to be a railing. Were these stairs? Sucking in a deep breath, Jane moved closer to the edge and dangled her legs over the side. Slowly, she gripped onto the railing above her head and pulled herself closer and closer, her feet touching the board below her. Jane moved so that she was mostly hanging out of the hole, placing her stance onto the third step now. Okay…damn. Hopefully these steps weren't rotted through.

Pushing her hips forward, she tensed her body, preparing herself to fall through the staircase. Her hand had a death grip on the wooden railing beside her. Jane now stood upright completely, and she let out a relieved breath when she realized that she wasn't falling through the air now. Taking in another one, she slowly began to walk down the steps, still just as gingerly and tentatively as before. Jane reached the bottom, concrete below her evident from the wood of the stairs. So…she was in a different part of the warehouse now. This side, though, had no windows. What the hell was she supposed to do now?

"I _knew_ you would follow." Eddie's creepy-ass-fucking-voice taunted her from somewhere in the cavern, the annoyance echoing around her. Jane turned in a circle, eagerly searching the location of its source but to no use. It was too damn fucking _dark_. "There's someone that is very eager to see you…"

"Let Rebecca go, Eddie, and I'll go easy on you." She replied back, stepping a little forward so that she wasn't in the same position as before. Her movements were slow as she moved in a straight lone a few steps, hands lifting the gun so that it pointed out in front of her.

Eddie laughed, the sound sinister and weird in her ears. "I'm afraid that Rebecca's not the one that wants to see you. How about I turn on the lights so that you can see?" Lights instantly came on, and Jane squeezed her eyes closed as she was momentarily blinded, a piercing headache immediately stabbing at her from the brightness. It wasn't a spotlight this time, the lights coming from overhead and being slightly yellow. Eddie had turned on the warehouse hanging lights.

After the count of three, Jane slowly opened her eyes, finger tensing on the trigger as she prepared herself for Eddie to be standing in front of her. But what she saw was not the thin, waifish appearance of Eddie, but of a broad-shouldered, hulking and muscular form of someone that she hadn't seen in years. Not since she was nineteen. Her eyes widened, taking in the man with the cold blue eyes, pale skin, and dark blonde hair. He wore a white tee that strained across his massive chest and arms, black jeans, and combat boots. He hadn't aged at all since she had seen him…

"Alex?" She whispered. A closed-lipped smile spread across his face at her recognition, his eyes pleased. He gave her an up and down as well and he tilted his chin up a little. Damn, was he always that tall?

"Jane." He replied in a clipped tone. Just as brusque as ever. Jane frowned a little, tightening her grip on the gun as she steadied her hands. His gaze flickered down to the weapon in her hands that was trailed at the center of his chest before they went back up to hers with a humorous glint. "Are you going to shoot me?" Before she could answer, he knocked her arms to the side, quickly grabbing the gun from her and ripping it away. He threw it over his shoulder where it banged against a caged set of wooden crates.

She instantly felt exposed now that she no longer had that protection. Sucking in a deep breath, she lowered her hands to her sides and gave him a defiant look. Jane still had her knives though – one in her pocket and the other in her boot – and her other gun. If only she could reach it…

Alex grabbed her shoulders and pulled her towards him, instantly spinning Jane around so that her back was to him. She felt his hands tearing at the bottom of Bruce's shirt, hiking up the hem to get to her spare gun and she jerked forward, elbowing him in the chest as hard as she could. Alex merely grasped her flying arm, yanking it across the front of her body. Her other hand shot down the pocket of her pants, flicking open the knife there and blindingly flipping it around so that the blade faced the opposite way. She jammed it backwards towards Alex's thigh, but he must have anticipated the move for the blade met nothing but air.

He put his other hand on that arm, yanking it backwards painfully. Jane cried out at the awkward position, her arm being torn behind her back roughly and forcefully. She dropped the knife. Alex wrapped the arm back into proper position and put it across her body so that her arms were 'X'-ed in front of her chest, useless as he held them there. He tugged them so that they were now behind her neck. Wrapping one strong hand there, he pressed them against her head so that she was forced to look downwards. From this position, Jane couldn't even get the proper leverage to drive her heel upwards or anything. She was useless.

His other hand reached under Bruce's shirt again, gripping the metal as she closed her eyes in defeat. Of course he would know where that was. He had taught her almost every trick in the book. All the things that she knew about fighting, she had learned from him. "I have to say that I'm _very_ disappointed." He whispered into her ear and she cringed away. Bruce was the _only_ person who could breathe on her neck like that.

"Fuck _you_," she snapped back, ever as eager to try to establish that she wasn't afraid of him. Though held here defenselessly and knowing that she couldn't pull anything on him kind of made her more than a bit anxious. Alex was the best fighter that she knew. He had trained her under Falcone's orders, was the main reason why she was a damn good punch-thrower. Now he was back after so many years. And for what? How had Eddie known to call him? How had Alex known where to find her? What the _fuck _was going on here?

Her eyes were on the ground, her boots the only thing she could see. All she wanted to do was look up to try to find Rebecca. To make sure that the girl was okay and well enough was her main priority. Alex…she may be able to handle…maybe. Hopefully, Batman wasn't too far behind her or something. Oh damn. How was it that she always got into these positions?

"You don't think that Maroni hadn't figured out that you were with _Batman_ this whole time?" He chuckled. Gripping her hip, he spun the two of them around and pushed her forwards. Jane collided with the metal cage, fingers instantly wrapping around the blank metal pieces as she sucked in a deep breath. _Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_. Maroni knew? Shit! No wonder he hadn't tried to get her more into the family. He hadn't put up a fight every time she ridiculed him and his choices. Hadn't done anything at all yet she hadn't been the least bit suspicious. _Fuck_! She was in trouble now.

Turning around, she faced Alex. "You were stupid to betray Falcone like that. How would he take it? That you, his pride and joy, his _creation_ turning against him?" He taunted her, causing her to wince a little at the accusation. Yeah, she felt fucking crummy about that, but dammit someone had to stop him.

"I'm _no one's _creation." She snarled at him, still holding onto the cage and refusing to let him know that his words poked at her sense of loyalty. Alex stepped forward, crossing his arms over his chest as he gave her an amused look. "Why are you back? Why are you here? None of this is your business. You were never supposed to come back to Gotham."

He chuckled. Jane pushed herself from the cage, quickly jumping from the ground to give him a solid kick in the chest as her body turned in mid-air. She landed smoothly, bringing her knee up to give him another kick in the groin when he caught her foot. Jane twisted downwards, placing her hands on the ground and did a cartwheel-like move so that her other leg swung around her body and collided with his hand that held her. As he dropped it, she instantly twisted around so that she landed on her bottom. She snapped her legs together and sent both of her feet into his thighs, pushing Alex backwards.

She leapt up, running instantly around him, aiming for the staircase. Jane knew that she couldn't beat him if they started fighting – but Bruce might. If she could get to him then they may have a chance of getting Rebecca and then running out like bats out of hell.

Hah. _Bats_.

She felt strong arms on her shoulders, and then her body was flung backwards and towards the side a little. Jane landed in chair, the legs scraping backwards before it collided with a crate. She gripped the armrests, preparing to sling-shot herself out of the seat before Alex got closer to her.

Jane's body had just left the chair, feet on the ground when he gave her a solid uppercut into the stomach. She hissed, grunting so loudly that it echoed throughout the warehouse, body curving forward involuntarily before Alex pushed her back into the chair. "Hmm…I take that back. I'm a little impressed, actually. You still depend too much on your guns like always though." Jane coughed, pain booming in her stomach as he put his hands on her wrists, shackling her down into the seat, stepping onto her shoes so that she couldn't move her legs either. "You were always afraid to embrace hand-to-hand combat fully." Weakly, she lifted her head to stare him down. Clenching her jaw, she sucked in a deep breath, trying to ignore the throb of her wounded thigh and the ache of her stomach. He was a lot faster than he had been, and even then he had been the fastest she had ever seen. "That's your father's fault though, I suppose. In the end, guns didn't help him either, did it?"

"Fuck. You." Jane reared her head back and collided it with his. Another splitting headache went through her, but she smiled as he jerked back for a moment. Alex's eyes shot open, an all-too familiar fire burning in them as he took in a deep breath through his noise. Faster than she knew possible, his hand was at her throat, pulling her entire body out of the chair. Jane's hands – now free as he kept a grip on her throat and the other at his side – quickly grasped onto him as her air supply was cut off. She choked, and managed to flail a leg into his groin quite solidly for what little momentum she had.

That spot was always a weak one for men. Jane thought that they would finally just start wearing cups everywhere. She was dropped, and she sucked in a deep breath as air flooded her lungs again. She sent an uppercut of her own into his chin, Alex's head snapping back before she lifted her knee and sent a powerful kick into his stomach. He stumbled back a few steps before recovering. Jane began to move away from him when he back-handed her across the face, sending her faltering over onto a cart. She held onto it as Alex came towards her, grabbing her hips and turning her to that her back was to him. He wrapped his hand around her ponytail and slammed her head onto the wooden crate.

Arms stretched out to grasp onto the crate, Jane's vision went black as she struggled to fight against unconsciousness. He yanked her ponytail back, Jane colliding with his chest as he grabbed her right arm before she could lash out at him. Alex was pressing her into the crate, his hips against her back as he sandwiched her between himself and the cart. "Keep fighting back. It's only going to make me want you more." His hand snaked up the side of her waist before circling around her stomach and going to her breast. Squeezing it, Jane let out a hiss at the harsh touch, jerking her body forward to try to get away from him. He yanked her ponytail back more though, her head now looking towards the celling so that she was looking in his eyes now.

"You can't have me anymore. I'm not some stupid little girl." Alex smiled and pushed her head back down on the crate, hands dropping to grab onto her hips as he hoisted her up, turning her light body so that she was lying on her back. He grabbed onto Jane's thighs, pulling her down. She snapped up, trying to maneuver her legs in-between the two of them to push him away. Alex grabbed her arms that were starting to form fists.

"Falcone's not here to protect you now." He smirked and pushed her back onto the crate. Jane lifted her legs and brought them to her chest, quickly pushing them forward to get him away. She made contact with his chest before he could stop her, and Jane had time to scramble off of the crate, going around the opposite side to lift her shirt and grasp the knife that she had there.

Holding the six-inch blade in her hand, she grasped the handle and took in a deep breath. Her thigh was screaming for attention, and as she looked down she saw that blood had seeped through her hurriedly-made bandage. Grimacing, she knew that she had to get attention fast. Or at least stop moving it around so much. Oh fuck she was in a tough situation. Where the hell were Eddie and Rebecca?

Rocking back so that she was on the balls of her feet, Jane tried to calm her breathing down. What had happened with Crane wouldn't happen again. Not with Alex.

Jane took in a long, shaky breath and jumped up, holding the knife in front of her. Her eyes met nothing but the warehouse as she scanned the immediate area in front of her. Wait. Where was Alex? Running, she moved around the crate, quickly breaking for the steps. As soon as she stepped on the first one, she felt a strong hand on her shoulder, pulling her back. Jane twisted, bringing the knife up and effectively scratching his chest. It was a shallow wound, but she still gloated in the fact that she had made him fucking _bleed_.

Alex snarled and his hand shot towards hers. He yanked the knife away just as easily as her gun before pushing her onto the steps. Jane landed, quickly lifting onto her forearms before his gripped the top of her head. "See you later, sunshine." He smiled before bashing her head onto the wood, causing her vision to start swirling in shades of darkness and fading softly into black.

* * *

Alex would be lying if he said it was easy to leave Jane behind in the warehouse. In fact, it was very, very difficult. Probably more difficult than the ride over to a distinct house on the opposite end of the Narrows with Eddie and the hostage in the backseat. The girl kept crying, the sound muffled through the gag in her mouth, but _still_. The sound was fucking annoying and grating on his nerves. Not as much as Eddie though. Eddie. He was a weird guy. And Alex had come across a lot of damn weird people in his life, Eddie ranking at number two on the list. Before they had left the warehouse – Jane's body still lying on the steps, beckoning to him even as he drove away – Eddie had been insistent on leaving behind a letter. He had wanted to carve it into her skin, but Alex had refused that. The girl needed to remain alive, and she had already lost a lot of blood from the gunshot wound in her thigh. Carving into her stomach wouldn't have been the best thing.

Besides, he wanted her _awake_ and _aware_ of it if that was how they were going to go. He might like that, actually. Carving words into her skin while she screamed in agony. That's what the little bitch deserved. She deserved all the pain in the fucking world.

So, Eddie had to settle for the old fashioned way. That poem was weird as shit too.

"_A debt has been made_

_That debt must be paid_

_With the blood and the pain_

_The hurt and the flame._

_You will die, Jane_

_But not before you suffer in this game."_

Like seriously. The fuck was all that shit supposed to mean? This was why Alex preferred the brawny types. They might be stupid, but they weren't batshit crazy like this guy and another. Jane had pissed off and intrigued a lot of different people. While earning the wrath of Maroni and his men, she also popped up on much more dangerous people's radars. To be honest though, it wasn't really her as much as it was the people she had associated herself with recently.

Men like Alex, who had been called back into Gotham just to deal with Jane. The girl was stupid, betraying the family like she did by running to the fucking cops. Self-preservation was something Alex frowned deeply upon. He thought that when he taught Jane the art of combat he had beat the idea of selfishness out of her. It was why she rarely did offensive moves – she was far too fond of living and focused on surviving to ever act out a fight, instead choosing to deflect the moves other did on her. Once he recognized the severity of her fighting technique and how much it focused solely upon defense, Alex had tried to force her into more offensive situations.

One had even got out of hand.

It was the reason that he had to leave Falcone and Gotham. Jane, being Falcone's pet and all, was under his severe and total protection. At least until she could defend herself completely. Alex had gotten a little _too_ into trying to get that offensive side out of her and pissed off Falcone. He had to leave Gotham, leave everything he had ever known. The little bitch had ruined everything for him and he would make her pay. After his new employer had called and told him about the recent events surrounding Jane, Alex had come back to Gotham as quickly as he could. Seeing her tonight had been…fantastic. More so than he could have dreamed.

To see her wince and hear her cries without having to think about Falcone was so freeing and fucking wonderful that it caused a drug-like withdrawal now that she was gone. He wanted to inflict as much pain and discomfort on her as he could, and he had been promised that. Just not now. Oh, but when the time came, little Jane would be _begging_ for him to slit her throat. The girl was too self-righteous for her own good. He had seen it in her eyes as she searched for the hostage - what was her name? Becca? Rebecca? – in the warehouse. She had this whole _I'm better, faster, stronger than you_ demeanor that he had wanted to just strip away. And he had. By practically killing her, Alex hoped that she would understand that he was a threat. That he was indeed coming back for her. This wasn't over.

Alex had to admit that Jane had improved a bit since he last saw her. She had lashed out at him a few times, and though the hits hadn't been extremely fantastic, they were still hits nonetheless. Not many people could say that.

He just hoped that she hadn't broken. Alex needed that spunk, that spirit of hers. Those curses she had spewed out at him only riled him more and more. He was more than eager to see what kind of variations she would have when he got his hands around her again. And this time he wouldn't have to hold back.

Smiling as he gripped the steering wheel tighter, Alex pulled into the short driveway leading up to the dilapidated old house at the corner of the street. Turning off the car, he got out, grasping the keys and tucking them into his pocket as Eddie dragged out the hostage. The guy had some fascination with the chick for an odd reason that Alex didn't really give a shit about. He could do whatever he wanted with her as long as he stayed away from Jane. That girl was _his_.

Alex walked into the house, heading straight for the back room where he knew his employer was. Opening the door, he stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, and closed it firmly behind him. A ransacked office-like space was in the room. Papers everywhere, newspaper clippings taped to the wall with blood splattered in some spaces, a few droplets obviously fresh. In one corner sat a bed with mused sheets, a young woman sitting atop.

She looked up as Alex walked in, her huge blue, doll-like, and fucking creepy eyes blinking with a tinge of craziness and humor in them. In her hands was a broken baby doll, the girl's fingers running over the doll's face before going through the hair that was torn in chunks. The young woman was probably around her mid-twenties if Alex had to guess, a thin little body as if she didn't get enough to eat. A purple tattered dress hung around her frame, the long coils of her white-blonde hair covering more of her chest than the fabric did. Humming, the girl smiled broadly before looking back down at the doll.

"She's most definitely working with Batman." Alex said, turning to the huge leather chair behind the beaten wooden desk. The chair's occupant was a man who freaked even Alex out. A guy who ran around in greasepaint and tacky purple and green suits. A man who laughed at freakish times and liked to make up stories about his scars. _Joker_ he called himself. Somehow, the guy had appeared out of the blue. Alex had never heard of him before. Didn't know he even exited until now. The call had been out of the blue, random, and it made Alex wonder how Joker had managed to find him much less figure out how to contact him. "Almost like a side kick, if Jane would ever lower herself to be called that. Which she wouldn't."

"Plain Jane," the girl in the corner giggled. Alex's eyes shifted from the guy in the chair to the woman again, lifting a curious eyebrow as the chick looked to Joker. "Little plain Jane. Is she plain, Mister J? Such an odd, such a_ plain _name." Her voice was high with an accent that gave Alex the creeps.

"Well I don't _know_, kiddo. Why don't you ask our dear _friend_ Alex here?"

Alex shrugged his shoulders. "She's all right I guess." Why did it matter what she looked like?

"_Oh, _someone fancies Miss Plain Jane," the woman teased, then went back to her humming.

"I fancy her _death_." Alex replied stonily then faced Joker again. "Though I don't understand what that has anything to do with whatever you are planning for. She's working with Batman. Now she knows that Maroni's discovered her betrayal, she'll go into hiding for a little bit. Probably won't come back on the streets again as long as Maroni is still around. She knows there will probably be a price on her head and that the Gotham's worst will come to collect it."

"Make sure that Maroni _doesn't _get his hands on her." Joker said and licked his lips, fingering the knife he held in his hands. He twirled the blade around, running a gloved hand up and down the serrated edge slowly, sensually. "I think it would, ah, be in our best interests to get her ourselves once we _discover _how close of a relationship she and the Bat have. We might can use that to our advantage as well."

"Why do you want _her_, puddin? Bats won't be able to stop you anyway. Not after we get the money."

"I want _her_ because she can be a way to, ah, _distract _and _unravel _Batman."

"Oh." Harley chirped then went back to her doll. How did a guy like Alex wind up working for a guy like this? She lifted a hand and tucked a blonde curl out of her ear before running her hands down the length of her hair to the black and red tips at the bottom. Picking up a chunk of the bottom ends, she examined the dyed edges with a satisfied smile, dropping the hair and humming once more. "Well, I hope that she likes games."

* * *

**A/N: Hehehehehehe :)**

**I hope you guys are ready for more character to be in Cracked, which take place in "The Dark Knight." I decided that I wanted to play around a lot with Jane, Rebecca, and a few other OCs that I'll be introducing. Hope that you guys don't mind. :) **

**So, Jane' blast from the past went well, no? Looks like Harley will be joining in on the fun as well - I fell in love with her while playing Arkham Asylum. Thought she'd be fun to write. And have you figured out who Eddie is yet? He's not there yet, but he and Rebecca will be having some... fun. Yes, Rebecca will be a far more prominent character and will be shown much, much more.**

**I'm not planning on posting the first chapter until Saturday, so look out for it. I'll post something here like I did with "Shattered" to let you know.**

**Thanks so much to those who review/favorite/follow/PM! It means SO SO SO SO much. Can't even tell you how much. :D**

**So, are you looking forward to "Cracked"? Or are you tired of Jane?**


	12. Author's Note

Hey :D

In case you haven't noticed, "Cracked" – the third part of the Shattered series – is up! I'm really excited to hear what you guys think about it and am totally stoked to write it. Hope that you guys enjoy it and HUGE thanks for those who've actually read the fic. Seriously. You're, like, awesome.

Special thanks to my reviewers! LOVE LOVE you guys

Stay awesome!

xLevitate


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